


Sparked

by MasterKane



Series: Sparked [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anti-Natalism, Boypussy, Double Penetration, Knotting, M/M, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Safewords, Season/Series 03, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Unsafe Sex, accidental magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2018-12-16 09:52:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11826264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasterKane/pseuds/MasterKane
Summary: Stiles has an unexpected response to the bite of an Alpha, and after some accidental magic, learns some family and supernatural history he didn't know.Also, porn happens. Lots of shameless porn.---Sorry for the delay in updating, I just want to keep the characterization consistent, and right now my head's stuck on AUs and tropes. I have still been working on this, and will continue when things get back to "normal".





	1. Sept 14-16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically an intro/prologue to the canon divergence, and goes through the very end of season 3a.
> 
> There's a lot of angst in this chapter. As such, the stress brings Stiles into or close to panic attacks several times. Also, potential tw for a significant injury which affects Stiles for most of the chapter.

"Shit, shit. Fuck!" Stiles panted and swore in pain, clutching his wounded side where Kali had torn him up pretty good. He was pretty sure the sharp pain was the only thing holding off a panic attack, because if he thought about it, he was terrified, and steadily becoming drenched in his own blood. Kali was going to finish him off, and he wouldn't be able to save his dad, and _fuck!_ He rolled onto his better side, stomach queasy and world spinning. He wasn't sure what was panic attack and what was blood loss. For some reason, Kali had stopped attacking him, for which he was grateful. He could still hear fighting, but couldn't make sense of it.

"Hey. Hey!" Someone was in front of him, trying to get his attention. He was vaguely aware of Peter looking at his bloody side, and then an arm sliding under him, hoisting him upright and making the world flip over as Stiles stumbled on his feet. "Stiles, come on. We need to get you out of here." Yeah. Yeah, he was still alive, he was going to find his dad, even if he had to make all the plans and let the Werewolves execute them.

"Find..." He winced as his side stretched before trying again. "Find Melissa." He needed to get patched up so he could start figuring out what they were going to do. It took a while for Peter to respond, but they were still moving.

"Scott's looking for her."

Stiles looked up to see the front doors approaching. "We're leaving?" Peter stopped when they got outside, and when Stiles looked at him to see what the hold up was, he seemed to be listening, head tilted towards the roof. He growled softly and then moved forward again as a car pulled up, Chris in the driver's seat. Peter opened the back door and stuck Stiles in, the boy letting out a colourful stream of curse words as he was moved. Peter smirked, taking that as a sign Stiles' head was clearing up.

"Where... where's Derek?" Stiles asked as Peter buckled him in.

"He and Isaac got Cora the hell out of here," the man replied, shutting the door and going up to Chris' window.

"Get him patched up. Take him to Deaton if you need to."

"What... Shouldn't I go to Derek's?" Stiles slurred.

Peter looked back at him. "Werewolves don't exactly keep needle and thread around unless they're sewing, and Derek never picked it up." Stiles made an amused little snort at the image of Derek sewing. Then again, supernaturals' wounds might heal, but their clothes didn't. Knowing how to sew was probably a practical skill to have.

Chris waited for Peter to step back, and then they were quickly driving away, the sound of sirens approaching the hospital.

* * *

Stiles didn't realize he'd drifted off, but he woke up to someone setting him down on something soft, followed by a snipping sound as the rags of his shirt were cut away. He looked down to see Chris assessing the damage, which, god, that was nasty. He was just starting to freak out about how he was going to need stitches, and wondering if the hunter even bothered keeping anesthetic, when Chris moved more of his shirt away. Shit. Maybe he wouldn't need those stitches after all. Swallowing, he looked at Chris' clenched jaw as the hunter took in the distinct bite mark.

"You're not gonna kill me, are you?" Chris looked up at him, seeming to have just realized Stiles was conscious again. The man took a deep breath, looking down at the mark again briefly before replying.

"No. You haven't broken the Code and you're not a hunter." Stiles let out a shaky breath of relief, glad to know Chris intended to stick to the Code. The man got up, rummaging around and coming back with the First Aid supplies.

"You want me to stitch you up, still?" Stiles paled at the sight of the needle and thread, looking down at the damage to try and see if it would be worse getting stitches vs. not.

"I mean, if I was rejecting the bite, it would be turning black, right? So it should heal up on its own soon."

"How long it takes seems to vary depending on the person," Chris replied, sounding clinical. Stiles tipped his head back on the pillow, focusing on breathing through the pain.

"Can you just, uh, patch it up with some gauze?" Chris nodded and carefully covered the bite with a large adhesive patch before wrapping the claw marks in more gauze.

"How's the pain?"

"Could be better," Stiles chuckled before hissing at the movement. Chris helped him down some water and a few pills. "Any chance I could still get some of that anesthetic you were gonna use for those stitches?"

"What anesthetic?" Stiles scrutinized the hunter's face before flopping his head back on the pillow, groaning.

"Oh, god. You're serious." He heard Chris quietly start putting things back away. "Please never offer to stitch me up without anesthetic again." The sounds stopped, and Stiles looked over to see Chris staring at him. Fuck. "And don't remind me that that situation will probably never come up again, one way or another. Because I think the adrenaline's wearing off, and I'm literally too tired to freak out about how I'll either be dead before I ever get to see my dad again, even if he survives." Stiles felt his chest tremble, and whimpered, apparently having a bit more emotional energy than he thought. He took a few long moments to steady himself again. "Or what'll happen on the eclipse... And trying to control my urges as a werewolf with ADHD." He paused, starting to sound sleepy as he looked over at Chris. "Hey, do you think being a werewolf will cure my ADHD? Will I still have to take Adderall? D'you know 'f any werewolves on pills?" Chris had moved to the doorway as Stiles rambled, his hand hovering over the light switch.

"I don't know, Stiles. Those pills will make you drowsy, so get some rest. I'm going to go find out if they found Melissa, and if she can take a look at you when she gets the chance." Stiles gave a slight nod, too tired to respond more, and Chris turned off the light, going to close the door.

"Door, open," Stiles mumbled, causing the hunter to pause, and then leave the door ajar so some of the hall light came in. Stiles wasn't sure if that was actually better, because now he felt like someone might come in, but if Kali decided to finish him off, she could use the window, like all the other Werewolves anyways. It was probably a _damned if you do_ situation, but he didn't have much time to think about it before he passed out.

* * *

"Ow, hey." Stiles opened his eyes, blearily. The room was still dark, but it looked like Peter was trying to pick him up. The Wolf stopped and sniffed, before pulling his hands away, leaving Stiles on the bed.

"Why are you bleeding?" the man asked, eyes glowing as he tried to look under the gauze.

"Because I was brutally attacked by an Alpha Werewolf?" Stiles said sardonically. The little spots of blue whirled in the dark as Peter rolled his eyes.

"I mean why didn't Chris stitch you up? I thought Argents kept that stuff on hand."

"Yeah, well apparently 'that stuff' doesn't include anesthetic, which was a deal breaker." Peter made a frustrated almost-growl. "Where's Melissa?" There was a long wait with no answer. "Peter?"

The man sighed. "Jennifer took her."

"Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!" That meant the Darach already had 2 guardians. "Where's Scott?" Again, no answer. "Fuck, just tell me, Peter!"

"Stiles?" Chris called, concerned, footsteps running to the room before switching on the light, gun leveled at Peter. Stiles whined at the bright light, covering his eyes. "How'd you get in?"

"Really, Chris? Practically every Werewolf in town has come through your daughter's window at some point. Well, except the Alpha Pack. They were just over your head."

Stiles groaned at the pun. "Oh my gooodddd," he whined, moving his hand away from his eyes to hit Peter on the arm. "Now tell me where Scott is."

Peter sighed. "He left with Deucalion."

"What?! What the hell is he thinking?"

"That Deucalion is the only one that can help him stop Jennifer and save your parents," Peter said, sounding in disagreement. Stiles whimpered, feeling lost with all the important people in his life gone. "Stiles, we're going to save your dad, one way or another.

Stiles snorted softly. "Yeah, like a law abiding citizen like yourself is so eager to save the sheriff."

"I'd rather him than the FBI."

"The FBI's in town?" Chris and Stiles asked in unison, Chris' question calm, while Stiles sounded more shocked.

"Seems they caught wind of a serial killer, and the county sheriff that's supposed to be dealing with it is missing... They showed up at the hospital."

"Shit." Stiles pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts. "Well, I need to get stitched up to deal with this, so take me to the animal clinic. Deaton will have anesthetic and everything," he said, sending off a text for the vet to meet them there. Peter waited for him to put his phone away before lifting him up, more gingerly this time, although still causing Stiles to groan.

* * *

"So when can I get the stitches out?" Deaton had finished putting the supplies away and Peter was standing nearby with his arms crossed over his chest.

"When it heals."

Stiles bit his lip nervously. "And when will that happen?"

"Well, if it does, then it should be fine by morning." Stiles continued chewing at his lip before replying.

"And if it doesn't?" Deaton looked reluctant to answer, which usually was part of his mysteriousness and unhelpfulness, but this time looked like he didn't want to give Stiles the bad news they were all expecting. The vet steeled himself before answering.

"Then it likely won't matter." Stiles felt number than he expected, but decided to make himself prepared, since he didn't have a week to try and research this stuff on the internet, or a bestiary in archaic Latin.

"So what happens if a Werewolf's first full moon is an eclipse?"

Deaton relaxed. "Likely nothing special. The eclipse only lasts for 15 minutes, so for most of the night, the effects of the full moon will still be as intense as for any newly turned Werewolf. The sudden loss of power will therefore be even more jarring, and probably the sudden gain again as well when the eclipse is over."

"Well, I'm going to Derek's, so sounds like you're coming with me. We'll figure out who's babysitting you in the morning," Peter said, helping Stiles down from the table. The teen refused to be carried around princess style any more, and leaned on the Werewolf as they thanked Deaton and left.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Peter asked once they'd started driving. As much as he loved Roscoe, Stiles had to admit he was grateful for the smooth ride Peter's car provided. He didn't think his side could handle the Jeep's suspension right now.

"About the bite?" Peter nodded. "I didn't even know until Chris started cutting up my shirt," Stiles responded, the scraps of his shirt tossed at the clinic, leaving him in just the bit of gauze Deaton reapplied.

Peter looked over at him briefly. "Are you cold?"

"A bit," Stiles conceded, although he felt like the lost blood had taken some of his heat with it. Peter turned up the heat, and Stiles relaxed into his seat more. "Why do you seem to care that I got bitten anyway? At the beginning of the year you wanted to turn me."

Peter took less time to respond than Stiles expected. "And I offered, didn't I? Believe it or not, I do care about consent."

"You didn't ask Scott."

"I wasn't myself then. I'd just spent six years in a coma after losing everything. Do you have any idea what that's like?" Stiles's stayed silent, sure Peter knew he hadn't. "Cora said losing a pack member is like losing a limb. I was emotionally devastated, I couldn't move, my physical limbs might as well have been amputated as well. It started off normal, grieving the loss, feeling hurt, confused, angry. Then the coma aspect kicks in. You can't communicate, there's no input of new ideas, and no output. No way to rant or express anything. The only person to communicate with and bounce ideas off of is yourself, which just affirms your own feelings, and makes them even more intense. Six years of that cycle, amplifying everything far beyond its max. It's a wonder I didn't do more." Stiles took a while to process and let Peter recover. The man's voice had been unusually emotional and broken sounding. A far cry from the sharp sarcasm Stiles had grown used to.

"So what about Laura? And Derek? Why would they leave if losing a pack member is like losing a limb?" Peter sighed and growled, fingers tightening around the steering wheel.

"When a wild animal is trapped, it will chew off its own limb to get away. But having a pack makes you stronger, makes you heal faster. If they'd stayed, or even bothered to have me transferred closer to them, I would've recovered much more quickly, and probably not even needed the Alpha power. You don't abandon your pack; they're either banished or leave of their own free will. When Laura left, she forsook her Alpha duty. If an Alpha can't or won't take care of their pack, then it's their Beta's right to challenge them, to ensure the pack has a leader that has both the competence and the power to protect and lead them. Unfortunately you have to kill to get that power, but that's the way it is."

Stiles felt kind of bad for his part in killing the Werewolf. There had been so many things at play that they didn't understand. However, the man seemed to be more stable since he'd resurrected. Maybe being erased from existence for a while was what Peter needed to reset, and clear that intensity from his head.

* * *

By the time they reached Derek's loft, the sun was already coming up. Peter helped Stiles inside, and got him settled on the couch, Cora taking up the bed with Derek sitting beside her. Isaac was pacing back and forth behind his Alpha when he got a text. He replied and went back and forth with a few messages before looking towards Stiles.

"It's Allison."

Stiles tried to sit up. "What's it say? Did they find my dad?" he asked eagerly, stomach sinking when Isaac shook his head.

"They're trying to figure it out, but they could really use another head if you're up for it."

Stiles quickly nodded and reached out for Isaac's phone, but the Beta ignored him, sending back a text, and soon Stiles was getting a call on his own cell. He opened the video call and saw Allison on the other side.

"Hey," she said, Chris poking his head in the frame.

"Hey," Stiles replied. "I didn't bleed out," he said, smiling wryly. Stiles couldn't tell if Chris' response was a snort or a chuckle, but the man replied that he was glad to hear it.

"Everything she's done so far has been on the telluric currents, so," Chris started panning the camera to a map laid out on his desk, "we have a map and all the clues we need. All we don't have is time, which is why I need your help on this."

"Alright, so where do we start?"

"I think the placement has to do with the strength of the current, so the school, the animal clinic, the bank," Chris continued, moving the camera to show each of the locations.

"Wait," Stiles said, racking his brain for something on the tip of his tongue. "Would she use the same place twice?"

"Only if she didn't succeed the first time."

"The bank," Allison said, pointing to the spot on the map. "Scott's boss."

"Deaton. He was her only failure. That could mean something," Chris considered.

Tired of waiting around doing nothing, Isaac announced he'd meet up with them to help, and Stiles was left alone with the remaining Hales. Cora wasn't doing much better, and Peter and Derek both seemed stressed by how much pain the Alpha was taking. With a slip, Peter revealed he might know a way to heal her, and Derek pushed him to elaborate.

"As an Alpha you have a spark that gives you that extra bit of power. It heightens your senses and abilities, and gives you special gifts. The ability to give new life to someone," Peter explained.

"The bite," Derek filled in.

Peter gave a shrugging nod, that there was more to it. "That, but also something you can do for her. When you take her pain, she draws on that power."

"So what do I do? Take her pain?"

"And then some. Because there's a cost."

* * *

"She's not here, Stiles. Morrell's missing, and I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to be doing," Lydia said, Stiles having convinced Allison to take the _totally-not-a-psychic_ and look for Ms. Morrell when Chris sacrificed himself to the Darach.

"Those files are private," a voice said on the other end.

"She's kind of right, Allison," Lydia said. Stiles heard something slapped down.

"That's yours," Allison snipped. There were shuffling papers. "Lydia, these are all the same."

"What's the same?" Stiles asked, confused and left out with his wounds still keeping him couch ridden.

"The tree. It's full of drawings of a tree," Allison responded. Stiles wasn't sure when he'd been put on speaker, but kept in mind to refrain from overt references to anything supernatural with whatever other person was in the room.

"So I like trees," Lydia retorted.

Stiles could hear Allison growl, followed by the sound of a camera shuttering. "It's the _exact_ -" _click_ "-same-" _click_ "-tree." _Click_. "The same-" _click_ "-exact drawing." 

"Okay, you can have my session. You got bigger issues," the mystery person said, just as Stiles got a flood of photo texts, which he opened. He was just about to verbally agree that the drawings were indeed all the same when Peter, who'd been looking over the end of his phone, sighed.

"The root cellar."

"What?" The older man turned the phone around so Stiles could see from his perspective, the branches transforming into a web of roots. "Yes. Yes! So you know where it is," Stiles said, trying to sit up.

"What? What _root cellar_ , Stiles?" Lydia asked, annoyed.

"The one where-" Stiles cut himself off at the evil eye Cora gave him, who had switched roles and was now being caregiver to a newly Beta Derek, "-Peter knows where it is," he continued, catching himself.

"That's perfect. So he can show us where it is," Allison said, eager to find her father.

"It's not that simple."

* * *

"You're sure you want to do this? The two of them might be a couple of idiots, but I'm sure they can manage this between the two of them," Peter said quietly, referring to Scott and Allison.

"Dude, I can totally hear you. What the hell is he doing here, anyway?" Scott asked as he stood by his ice water.

Peter turned on him, jaw flexing slightly. "Well, unlike you, I've actually been around to look after Stiles here, who would probably be dead if I hadn't intervened."

"We're running out of time, so I suggest you guys wrap it up," Deaton said. Scott and Peter gave each other another death glare before relaxing a bit and turning to Deaton. "Now, did you each bring something?" the man asked, nodding towards the three sacrifices. They each held up their items, Stiles running his thumb over the mostly uncrumpled sheriff's badge. "Now, we'll hold each of you down, until you're essentially...dead. It needs to be someone who can bring you back, be an emotional tether." Upon Lydia walking towards Allison, the vet spoke up again. "Lydia, you go with Stiles." The Banshee turned, looking warily at the blue eyed Werewolf who was still standing by Stiles' side.

"Are you sure?" Allison asked, looking nervously at her friend.

Lydia collected herself and started walking over to Stiles and Peter. "It's fine." The sacrifices stepped forward, along with their "tethers", Peter standing back as he watched with arms crossed. Each of the teens made their sounds of shock and displeasure as they stepped into the freezing water, Stiles having some difficulty lowering himself in, and cursing loudly when the water soaked through the gauze, surrounding his wounds. Deaton looked over, concerned, but Peter was suddenly by the boy's side, holding his free hand and draining the excess pain. Stiles visibly relaxed slightly, but his muscles were still tense from the cold, and he huffed a few times before allowing himself to be pushed under.

* * *

"Go, help Derek and Cora. I'm fine to drive."

"Stiles, it's the full moon," Peter said pointedly.

"Yeah, and I still haven't healed, so I think we both know what that means," Stiles stressed. Peter's shoulders dropped slightly, but he still looked hesitant to leave. "It's means I don't have time for this shit. I need there to still be people around to look after my dad when I'm gone. So go, get Derek out of town so Scott and Deucalion can take down Jennifer, and maybe give us a chance to save our parents." Peter growled and huffed in frustration, wolf close to the surface, but he listened and got back in his car, peeling off into the night. Stiles let himself in the house to find something of his dad's they could use to track.

* * *

No! This couldn't be happening. They were right there, and the fucking storm was making the root cellar collapse in on them. Stiles was in no shape to lower himself in, let alone help hold it up.

"Stiles! Do something!" Isaac called, desperate. Stiles panted, starting to have a panic attack at the worst time. He doubled over on the ground, rubbing his chest which was having shooting pains now. He felt the sharp metal of his dad's badge in his chest pocket and clutched it, focusing and breathing through the panic and storm. The rumbling of the ground falling in settled, despite the ongoing storm, and he heard a few cautious cheers. Fuck. Thank god. He crawled over to the opening and saw their heads poking out, Isaac still having one hand under the beam he'd been supporting in case it started moving again.

They found some spare rope in the root cellar that thankfully hadn't been buried. After tossing it up to Stiles, who tied it around a tree, they climbed out, the cellar collapsing behind them. Stiles laid against the ground, trembling and panting in exhaustion, even though he'd barely done anything. His dad was quickly by his side, assuming he was having another panic attack. He tried to hug him and hold him close, starting when Stiles jerked at the pressure on his wound.

"Hey," he said, moving his son's shirt out of the way and looking at the gauze, "what happened?"

Stiles whimpered, tears filling his eyes as he shifted and clung to his dad. He didn't want to die. Not yet. He didn't want to leave his dad alone. He barely processed that he was just apologizing over and over, crying into his dad's shirt, who held him close, more gently this time.

"Hey, shhh, it's gonna be okay, son. We're okay," the sheriff soothed, stroking his son's hair and kissing the top of his head. "Melissa?" The nurse quickly came over, gently pulling away some of the gauze to look at the teen's wounds.

"Wow," she said as she took in the deep cuts and stitches.

"What?" the sheriff asked nervously. Melissa looked up, calming her face.

"I think he's going to be fine. They're stitched up. A bit of dirt from rolling around, but I don't see any infection yet. We can get that cleaned right up," she said, moving the gauze back in place and pulling Stiles' shirt back down over it. They didn't notice Chris watching tensely from the side as the sheriff tried to reassure his son with Melissa's words, just as the boy slumped in his father's arms, unconscious.

* * *

After being let in, the sheriff set his son on the McCalls' couch as Melissa went to get some disinfectant and supplies. Removing the coverings, the sheriff looked at the bloody stitches as Melissa came back. She started gently wiping away the crusted blood and dirt, and then more firmly as it seemed to reveal smooth, unmarred skin underneath.

"It's healed? How long has he had it? How didn't I notice?" the sheriff wondered, a mix of relieved and concerned.

"Noah, I swear it didn't look like that before. It was still relatively fresh then," she replied, peeling off the adhesive patch.

"So..." the sheriff started, before seeing the stretch of smooth skin Melissa had revealed, without even stitches to show a pattern. "What the hell was that for? You said he was all cut up before, and now, nothing. What does that mean?"

"Well," the nurse started, turning around the pad to reveal the bloody imprint of a bite, "I'd say you're now the proud parent of a Werewolf. Congratulations." There was a long pause as the sheriff took a deep breath to process.

"Ah, hell."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you didn't read the tags (please be a responsible reader and read the tags), Stiles is not a werewolf. Next few chapters will mostly be porn, with a bit of plot.


	2. Sept 17-18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No porn, I'm sorry :O I was originally planning on writing out to the end of the first porn scene, and then deciding from length if I wanted to post it as one chapter or 2, and if 2, then post them together so you'd at least get porn in the next update, if not the next chapter :/
> 
> However, I realized the fic timeline coincides with right now :O I've named the chapters with the dates, so ch 1 finished Saturday, and this chapter covers yesterday and today. Thought it'd be cool to be reading and living when things are supposed to be happening, in a weird parallel (ignore the years difference XD ). Next chapter takes place Saturday, so I'll try to post around then, but I'm not sure I'll be able to keep up with a parallel posting schedule, and it would be weird since the next couple weeks are pretty packed, and then there'll probably be larger time skips :/
> 
> Also, I wrote most of this a while ago, so most of it should have been looked over already, but let me know if you notice any typos and stuff.

"You're sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, Dad. It's not really an issue until the full moon anyway, and we have like a month, since I was a late bloomer," Stiles reassured, sticking the shirt in a spare grocery bag, since Scott said his backpack smells. "Besides, I'm going to Derek's, so if anything _does_ happen, and I lose control or something, he'll be able to help more than me staying here." Stiles grabbed his keys and left, popping back in a moment later. "Not that I'm saying you're useless, but he has more relevant knowledge. And Werewolf strength to like, hold me down and stuff. 'Cause you kind of need that. I tried just putting Scott in handcuffs his first full moon, but he just broke out of them and there was nothing I could do."

His dad waved him off. "Alright, I get it. I'll see you in a bit."

The teen smiled and headed back out, not taking long to drive to Derek's, and feeling much better now that his side wasn't torn apart, and both he and his dad had survived recent trials.

Derek looked down at him when he showed up at the loft.

"I, uh, brought your shirt back," Stiles explained, holding out the bag. "I think Peter borrowed it when we were here after the hospital."

Derek looked in the bag and shook his head. "That's not my shirt, it's Peter's."

"I thought he had his own apartment. Why's he keep clothes here?"

Derek snorted. "He doesn't. He gave you his shirt, and then borrowed one of mine."

Stiles looked down in the bag and frowned. "Yeah, I probably should have guessed from the V-neck. Is that supposed to mean something?" he asked, looking up.

Derek didn't even have to think before he replied. "Definitely."

"What?"

The older man shrugged. "Considering it's Peter, probably that he wants something." Stiles wondered if this had to do with the bite, and this was Peter's way of staking a claim on him because he wanted to try building his own pack again. "Be careful, Stiles." Stiles nodded absent mindedly, and went back to his Jeep, dropping the bag in the passenger seat and heading back home.

* * *

After a long day at school, Stiles was ready to go home, only to find a familiar face, leaning against his Jeep.

"You know, someday someone's going to realize that you're just creepy, and kick you out," he said, getting Peter to move and tossing his bag inside before facing the Werewolf. "What are you doing here?"

"Wondering what you're doing here."

Stiles raised an eyebrow at him. "I go to school here. It's Monday."

The man shifted, leaning again and looking over the teen as he crossed his arms. "Yes, but last I saw you, you were expecting to be dead soon. Then Derek mentioned you stopped by the loft yesterday."

"I healed."

"So I see."

"Look, Peter. I didn't sleep at all last night. I'm tired and I just want to go home and sleep, so if all you're here for is to complain I didn't call you up with the good news, then you've done it." The boy hopped in the driver's seat, and went to close the door, but Peter held it open.

"Why aren't you sleeping?"

Stiles glowered at him suspiciously, but answered honestly. "Nightmares."

The Wolf frowned. "Is that normal for you?"

Stiles sighed and shrugged. "Sometimes, but I have a feeling it's going to start acting up again. Lydia says the Darach attacked Kali, but her body wasn't at the loft after. So my guess is the twins weren't the only ones who survived, and when she recovers, she's going to do what the Alpha Pack does and come after her new Beta-" Stiles said, gesturing to himself "-to murder me and take my power." The older man's brow furrowed in what Stiles guessed was concern.

"Stiles, Kali is dead." The boy looked over, hesitantly excited.

"What?"

"She did survive Jennifer's attack, but I found her and finished her off," the man explained. Stiles' fingers flexed on the steering wheel as he took a shuddery breath.

"You're sure?" he asked, looking over. Peter flashed his eyes at him in response, the irises glowing a searing red. Stiles breathed out a soft "Fuck", unsure how he felt about this development. Tilting his head back against the headrest, he shook it in disbelief. "You could have said something. Like what'd you do, hide the body?"

"Yes."

Stiles turned to him. "Why?"

Peter sighed. "Because I'm not ready for people to know, and the pack wouldn't believe the marks were an animal attack. In case you forgot, you all burned me alive last time, and Derek slashed my throat. Derek, who recently gave up his Alpha power, and whom it would serve an advantage to take it from me once again."

Stiles grimaced, but was still suspicious. If Peter wasn't ready for them to know, it probably meant he was still moving pieces into place, and Stiles wanted his own backup. Blackmail seemed like a pretty good option. "And what's to keep me from telling them?"

"You didn't tell Scott about the bite, and I didn't push you on that. You didn't tell _anyone_ who didn't see it."

Stiles sighed, Peter having made his point. Scott still didn't seem to know, and Stiles realized he'd have to ask Melissa not to mention it if he wanted to keep this contained. Scott was absorbed in his change in status, and Stiles was fine with that. Maybe he would get Derek to teach him control. Or Isaac, who had experience as a turned Werewolf, and apparently did the best of Derek's Betas. He also didn't use breaking bones to teach. Or at least Stiles hoped he hadn't picked that habit up from Derek. "Fine, but I get the slightest hint you're up to something...nefarious-" Peter gave a soft snort as he raised his eyebrow "-and I'm blowing the whistle."

Peter shrugged. "Do what you want Stiles, I can't stop you. Although I'd appreciate a head's up if I need to get out of town quickly."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you _could_ stop me, if you decided to."

Peter looked hurt. "It'd defeat the purpose. They'd be on me in a heartbeat if I did something to you."

"Not if you just took my memory or something with your claws. Speaking of, if I notice any unexplained claw marks in my neck, I'm going to assume it's you."

"You'd heal."

Stiles made a _touché_ face before rebutting. "You're an Alpha." Check mate. Peter shrugged, admitting defeat and closing the door.

"You're right, I am an Alpha. I have nothing to gain from hurting your friends, I just want some reassurance since the same isn't true in reverse. If you give me this, I'll give you one free secret for me to keep."

Stiles narrowed his eyes. "That's a lot to promise when you don't know what the secret could be..."

Peter shrugged. "You want to tell them because you're either worried for their safety and want to protect them, or you're worried for your safety and think they can protect you. I'm not likely to find myself in that position."

"You going to keep up the kind of lone wolf thing you have going? Not going to make some Betas?"

The Alpha made a slight shrug. "My door's open if you want some training, or a more experienced Alpha."

Stiles narrowed his eyes in consideration. "No murder initiation this time?"

"No murder initiation."

Stiles waited, keeping Peter on his proverbial toes for a bit. "I'll keep it in mind. What's your address?" he asked, pulling out his phone.

Peter smirked. "Really? I thought you would have looked it up on the sheriff's database by now."

Stiles snorted. "I've had other priorities." Peter listed it off, along with his phone number.

"Go home, get some sleep. You've earned it."

"Alright, dad," Stiles replied sarcastically, putting the Jeep into drive before pulling out of the now almost empty parking lot.

* * *

"Is Scott home?"

"He's out with Isaac. Did you guys have plans?"

"No, I uh, I actually wanted to talk to you." Melissa looked confused, but stepped aside to let the jittery teenager in.

"Is something wrong, Stiles?"

"What? No, no things are actually good. Good news." Stiles saw her expectant interest, and clarified, remembering what Peter had said. "For me. Well, I guess for everyone, technically, but that's besides the point. And not why I'm here."

"Are you going to tell me why you _are_ here?"

Stiles nodded. "Yeah. I just...wanted to ask you not to tell Scott about me healing and stuff." Melissa looked confused and concerned, but Stiles was used to people looking at him like that.

"If he's the Alpha now, isn't that something he should know?"

Stiles looked up at her. "Yeah, and he will. It's just, becoming Alpha is a big change. Power influx and all that. I want to give him a chance to adjust to all that, be able to handle himself before I put the weight of the social aspect and having to handle Betas on top of that." Melissa nodded along obligingly, even though she still seemed skeptical with her arms crossed over her chest. Stiles continued. "I want him to hear it from me first."

Melissa opened her mouth to interrupt. "I'm sorry about your dad. It's just, he was there, and I..."

Stiles shook his head at the apology. "No, it's alright. I get it." Melissa relaxed a bit and nodded. "And there are a bunch of Werewolves I can use to help train me. Heck, I taught Scott control, and I was just an inexperienced human then. So I already have a good idea of what I'm doing."

"Wasn't Allison his anchor?"

"Yeah, for him. I'm sure I can find something. I mean, all that's _if_ I'm actually a werewolf." Melissa raised her brow in confusion. "We kind of...sacrificed ourselves to the Nemeton, in your place, so we could find you." Melissa nodded along, probably having heard it from Scott already. "That means it got all its sacrifices, and had a lot of power in it then. Jennifer used it to heal her before, and I might have triggered it or something. I haven't really shown any other signs of being a Werewolf, so I'm thinking we might have jumped to that conclusion prematurely."

"Alright, well, I'm not happy about you keeping things from him, but if you want to be the one to tell him, and you promise to, I'll respect that. Just remember that even if he's your Alpha now, he's still your friend." Stiles nodded, and finally went home, getting a better sleep than he'd had in a while.


	3. Sept 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've finally reached the porn!
> 
> Dubcon due to age, but they do have an honest discussion about that (albeit brief ) to try to minimize the issues inherent with that and make it as consensual as possible.

By the weekend, Stiles was feeling pent up and particularly agitated. Derek had called a pack meeting to address Scott being the new Alpha. He would also be gone for a while to take Cora back to South America and run an errand.

"You're leaving _now_? We literally just woke up a supernatural beacon that Deaton says will bring all kinds of dangerous nasties to our doorstep. Not to mention Scott could use some help adjusting to his new role and power," Stiles reminded.

"I can help with that," Peter piped in.

"I am not getting training from him," Scott said, looking at Derek imploringly. "He literally went on a murder spree when he became an Alpha. That's not a role model who's footsteps I want to follow."

Derek sighed. "He resurrected himself. You want to survive, he knows the tricks. Besides, it doesn't do us any favours to get hunters on our backs again. It's in his best interest to help you learn control."

"Or to steal his power," Lydia grumbled. Stiles looked over at Peter, knowing the Alpha had no need for that, but he didn't need to say anything since Derek had another answer to Scott's agreement. 

"You're a True Alpha. Only your own Beta can take your power."

"Really?"

"Yes," Peter said, sauntering over, "so be careful who you give that privilege."

"If anything's coming for the Nemeton, it'll take time to travel, so it's better I leave now before they get here. If things go to plan, I should be back before the full moon with some insight from a more experienced, _benevolent_ Alpha," Derek assured, emphasizing the Alpha's values for Scott's sake. Scott begrudgingly conceded, and after a bit of weird posturing between the pack's new and ex-Alpha that made Peter visibly cringe, they left the loft.

"Are you leaving with my shirt again?"

Stiles startled, thinking grumpily that his senses should be making it harder to be snuck up on. He turned to face the eldest Hale, who was looking at him with curious expectation. It was a kind of (really) attractive face, and lacking any of the usual creepiness or smirking that was Peter.

"No, I... I forgot it." Stiles sighed. 

"You texted to make sure I was coming," Peter replied.

"I know, I just, I've been on edge, and when it was actually time to leave, it slipped my mind."

"I could come pick it up."

"When?"

"Now?"

Stiles bit his lip before deciding. "Fine." Peter started walking around to the passenger side of the Jeep. "What are you doing?"

"Going to your house," Peter answered, waiting for Stiles to unlock the door.

"You don't want to take your fancy car?"

"I left it at my place. Figured a night run here would be nice, burn off some extra energy."

"As long as you plan on doing that to get home." Peter nodded and Stiles got in the driver's seat, leaning over to let the other man in.

Stiles expected Peter to complain about the cheap seats, or poor suspension, or maybe that it smelled weird. He supposed the first words out of the man's mouth were based on smell, but it still made him almost choke out in surprise.

"If you're going to be so sexually frustrated, you should just go get laid," Peter said bluntly, looking straight ahead.

Stiles glanced over at the man, street lights flashing across his attractive features. Fuck, Peter wasn't going to become his creepily older, attractive sex advisor, was he? Stiles turned back to the road before responding. "What do you think I've been trying to do?"

"Obsessing over someone who doesn't value you," Peter replied easily, turning to him.

Stiles clenched the steering wheel a bit, but the jab was dulled. He was already moving on from Lydia. "Yeah, well last time I was ready to go, she got taken by the Darach and used as a virgin sacrifice."

Peter seemed confused for a moment before realizing they were talking about someone else. Stiles didn't want to think about Heather. Everything was still too raw. Come to think of it, the only other person who had apparently been interested in him was Erica, which wasn't a good train of thought either.

"That still doesn't explain why you're lacking your usual _eau d'ejaculate_ ," Peter replied after a while. Stiles actually laughed at that.

"Really?"

"This might surprise you, but I was a teenager too once. And as a Werewolf, we came up with some amusing, if childish names for things human language doesn't really cover."

"Uh huh."

"So what's the issue? I know that it's not that your sex drive has suddenly disappeared."

"What are you getting at, Peter?"

"I think you know."

Stiles glanced over, noting the slight quirk of a smirk Peter couldn't hold back. The damn Werewolf could probably smell it the whole time. "Well then maybe you can tell me what the hell's going on. Am I pack breeding bitch or something now?"

"Do you want to be?" Stiles narrowed his eyes at the man, and Peter shrugged. "No."

"Well what the hell other reason is there for a Werewolf growing a vagina? Is it part of being some other shapeshifter I'm unaware of, like Jackson becoming a Kanima instead?"

"You're not a shapeshifter, Stiles. At least not in the sense you're talking about. You're a Spark. With some training you'll make a powerful emissary and be a formidable member in any pack. Shapeshifting is just one of a potentially unlimited number of abilities."

Stiles huffed and pulled into his driveway, parking and turning the car off before turning to Peter. "What" he asked, "is a Spark?"

"In simple terms? A type of magic user."

Stiles huffed. "Some magic user. I can't even control it. Instead I'm left with parts I honestly don't know how to work, and am just incredibly frustrated," he said, getting out with Peter.

"If you can't figure it out yourself, then get someone who knows what they're doing."

"Considering everyone who's attracted to me has been killed, I'm not sure I want to involve someone else."

"True, but I've already gotten that out of the way. So unless you're planning on killing me _again_..."

Stiles narrowed his eyes, Peter probably seeing the gears visibly turning in his head. "Okay, stop me if I'm totally off base here, but that makes it sound like you're attracted to me and that your death was therefore subject to my theoretical curse." Peter grinned. "Peter!"

"What? You're a smart, loyal, sarcastic little shit, and just because you're used to people treating you as unattractive doesn't actually mean you're not nice to look at. What's not to like?"

"Well, I have a tendency to word vomit, and flail so much I'm surprised it hasn't landed someone in the hospital or resulted in assault charges."

"I'm sure I could add some elegance training to your Spark training."

"What, like finishing school?" Stiles asked, unlocking the door and stepping inside, Peter shrugged, following him in.

"I personally don't think the word vomit's a problem. You could use some better control of your limbs though if you're going to be joining fights, even as a Spark." Peter accepted the bag with his shirt from Stiles, but didn't turn to leave. "My offer still stands."

"The training offer?"

"Well, that too."

"Then what offer? You haven't made an offer."

Peter hummed, realizing that Stiles was right, he hadn't explicitly verbalized it. "Would you like me to make you _cum_?" Peter asked, Stiles swallowing under his intense gaze.

" _Fuck_." Peter could smell the thick scent of lust and slick bloom around them, and smirked. "You wouldn't tell Derek, right? 'Cause I feel like you would, or even the pack, just to brag for the sake of bragging."

"Derek would probably try to kick my ass if he found out. And for obvious reasons, I feel like we shouldn't bring it up with him, for his sake."

"Obvious reasons being...?"

"Kate."

"Oh, yeah... Shit."

"And it's a good point. But I'm not just offering as a means to hurt you and your friends. However, if you accept, I need you to promise if something makes you uncomfortable, to let me know, and not to put up with my bullshit."

"I kind of like your bullshit, to be honest. I mean if sarcasm can be one of your reasons for liking me..."

"I'm not talking about sarcasm, Stiles. Don't let people walk on you. If you want to play rough, that's fine, but there needs to be a safeword."

"Red." Stiles replied automatically. Peter nodded.

"I'll take that as a yes, then?"

"Yeah," Stiles breathed, biting his lip. He shifted past Peter and locked the door before kicking his shoes off and leading them upstairs.

Peter set the bag down as he entered the cloud of teenage hormones. "When's your dad get home?"

Stiles looked at his phone. "In a couple hours," he answered, setting it down and pulling off his shirts as Peter toed off his shoes. Peter looked him over with a smile, enjoying all the unmarred skin and able to appreciate the teen's deceptively athletic build now that it wasn't covered in gashes and gauze. "You taking your clothes off, or just gonna look?" Stiles asked as he moved his hands down to unbutton his jeans.

Peter could hear the slight uptick of nervousness in Stiles' heartbeat at being made vulnerable in his nakedness, but also a new wave of arousal. Stepping forward, he ran a warm hand along Stiles' healed side, leaning in and brushing his lips against Stiles' ear. "Do you want me to? Or am I right in thinking the disparity turns you on?" he asked, moving his hands down to tug the boy's jeans open more. Stiles groaned as Peter slid one hand in the back of his pants to firmly squeeze his ass while the other felt the slick front of his underwear.

"Nah," Stiles said, trying to play it cool, even though Peter could feel the boy's moist breath on his neck, and hear the soft _fuck_ Stiles let out, "that's cool."

Peter hummed, listening to the boy's quick breaths and whimpers as Peter kept rubbing and squeezing him front and back, Stiles' open jeans slowly sliding down his legs. "I was actually thinking of having you wear my shirt." Stiles looked up at him. "I don't like the laundry scent, and you smell much better like this."

Stiles looked over at the bag sitting by his door and bit his lip, nodding. "'Kay."

Peter pulled his hand back to grab it, but Stiles grabbed his wrist, moving it back to rub at his soft heat. Once he was satisfied Peter wasn't going to stop, he reached past him to grab the shirt himself, managing to slide it on without hitting Peter. "Good boy," Peter said, nibbling the youth's ear. Where the shirt clung to Peter's figure, it was a bit loose on Stiles, and almost lewd, the V-neck nearly reaching down to Stiles' hard nipples.

Peter slowly tugged Stiles' underwear down his hips until they fell to the floor, Stiles hiding his heated face in Peter's neck as his slick thighs and cunt were exposed to the air. Peter helped him step out of his pants and briefs, hiking his legs up around his hips and walking him back to the bed. Stiles clung to him as he was laid down horizontal, Peter climbing onto the bed and suckling lightly on his neck.

"Don't mark me," Stiles said.

"In general, or just where it's visible?" Peter asked, moving down and giving soft kisses and licks to the skin exposed by the V-neck. Stiles looked down at him, taking a moment to think.

"Where were you thinking?"

Peter smirked, rubbing his thumb across Stiles' inner thigh as he shifted down the bed to nuzzle the other leg. "Here?"

"Okay, yeah. Just don't break the skin or bite too hard."

Peter licked across the skin before sucking on it, making Stiles moan. When he was satisfied, he moved his head back to get a look at the nice mark he'd left, rubbing his thumb gently over it in admiration. "How hard is too hard?" he asked.

Stiles was looking at the mark too. "For now? Avoid leaving teeth marks." Peter nodded and brushed his lips against Stiles' lower ones and breathing in the musky scent.

"Without training, your magic will be based on your subconscious desires. So I'll ask: do you want me to use a different name and pronouns?"

"What?"

"Like do you want me to call a you a girl?"

Stiles blushed. "Like a feminization kink?"

Peter tilted his head. "I suppose that could be enough to do it, but it'd be okay if it's more than that," he said, sliding his tongue between Stiles' slick lips and tasting the sweet musk. Stiles whimpered and groaned, swearing under his breath as he gripped Peter's hair.

"It's not... Neither. Neither of those. I think..."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "So what is it?"

"Nothing! It's just, I woke up from a wet dream and it was like this. It just added insult to injury that I was so hard and couldn't cum."

Peter smiled and hummed as he gave Stiles' pussy another hot lick, making the boy whine and tremble at the sensation, trying to muffle his sounds with his hand. "What kind of dream?"

Stiles huffed. "I just told you! A wet one. Like seriously wet. I was soaked when I woke up. Which is more than I've been able to get on my own since. It tends towards dry or damp."

"Is dreaming about having a vagina a common occurrence for you?"

"No. I didn't even have one in that dream. I don't think..." Peter looked at him to continue. "Okay, it might have involved some DP. That's-"

"Double penetration," Peter finished, smirking. "So your body accommodated by making another hole."

Stiles blushed as Peter looked up at him from between his legs. He was losing his virginity to a man way older than him (heck, he didn't even know how much older, since Peter had only given him an elusive answer when he'd asked), while he had a pussy. A man with claws and fangs and a history of murder, and who had spent some time dead in the ground, thanks in part to Stiles. What the hell was wrong with him? He didn't have a chance to think of it more as Peter swirled his tongue around his clit before sucking on it, making Stiles moan and lift his hips as he gripped the man's hair, pressing Peter's face against his small 'cock'. Peter responded by sucking more eagerly, tongue darting down now and then to explore the soft hole, gently sliding in and making Stiles stretch around the thick muscle. The boy was tight, his juices soaking into Peter's tongue and making him groan, mouth vibrating against the teen's cunt.

"Peter." The Alpha looked up at him, Stiles shaking now. He slid a finger inside alongside his tongue, and then another as he drew his tongue out and went back to sucking on Stiles' cocklet, watching the Spark as Stiles watched him. He could feel the way Stiles got tighter around his fingers when he stroked his inner walls. The teen's head tilted back, breaths and heartbeat getting faster as he started to tense, moaning a little mantra of "Peter Peter Peter fuck... Peter, ff-uck!" Stiles stuttered out the last, groaning and tensing as his walls spasmed and clenched around Peter's fingers, a wave of rich endorphins coming from him. Peter swirled his tongue around the throbbing clit a few times as the contractions continued until Stiles started to squirm from the sensitivity.

Stiles lay back panting, muscles going lax and his hand sliding from Peter's hair. "Holy fuck." Peter grinned, sliding his fingers out and making Stiles whine softly. He quickly sucked and licked the slick mess clean from them before lying over Stiles and licking at his soft lips. Stiles opened his mouth and let Peter in, moaning and sucking on the man's tongue as he tasted himself, rich and savoury in Peter's mouth. His hands slid to the back of Peter's neck, gently pulling at his hair as Peter tilted his head, continuing making out and tasting each other deeply. Peter ground down against him, and Stiles could feel the hard, throbbing line against him through Peter's jeans, pressing back up against the older man in return.

"Fuck, was that hot?"

Peter nipped at his lower lip playfully. "Very," he confirmed, sliding firm hands up Stiles' sides and pushing his shirt up. Once it had reached his armpits, Peter moved down to lick and suck at one of Stiles' nipples, watching how the blood filled nub took on a dusky pink tinge. He did the same to the other as Stiles whined before giving it a light nip and making Stiles squeak. Shifting up so he was sitting on his knees, Peter got Stiles to sit up and pulled the shirt the rest of the way off, pressing it to his face and breathing in the pleasing thick scent of Stiles' arousal.

"Are you going to fuck me?" Stiles asked, nudging Peter's bulge with his leg. Peter couldn't help but rut against it a bit. The front of his jeans were a mess from being pressed against Stiles' slick.

Peter hummed thoughtfully. "Do you want to do this again?"

"God, I hope so."

Peter smirked. "Then I was thinking this time I'd extend the anticipation a bit and go jack off with the shirt when I get home."

Stiles chuckled. "You gonna make it home like that?"

"Mmh, I might have to stop and rut against a tree on the way there..."

"Are you serious?" Stiles asked, raising an eyebrow.

Peter smiled and shrugged, standing up and pulling off the shirt he was wearing and tossing it to Stiles. "Here." Stiles caught it, glancing at it before looking back at Peter's chest as he pulled on the shirt Stiles had just been wearing. Peter grabbed his shoes and sat on the bed to put them on. "Come by my place tomorrow and we'll start on the Spark stuff." Stiles nodded and Peter got up, making a little wave before leaving through the door and closing it behind him. Stiles could hear him exit the front door a few seconds later, and eventually got up to shower off the complete mess of slick before saying goodnight to his dad who had come home, and crawling back into bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is in the works. I might not get it out Sunday like I planned, but should be out soon *crosses fingers*  
> \---  
> EDIT: I've uploaded the original version of the [pack meeting](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12736728/chapters/29045322), for anyone who's interested. It was completely rewritten, so while it feeds the same plot, it has different content and atmosphere.


	4. Sept 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wasn't originally planning on this part having porn, but once I got it in my head, it had to happen XD Ironically, it's mostly what caused this chapter to be late.
> 
> Not sure when the next chapter will be out, honestly. I'm still trying to decide how I want things to go, and haven't started it yet.
> 
> Thanks to my beta. Any remaining mistakes are mine.

Stiles woke up feeling rather cozy, the blanket snuggled up to his neck, and Peter's shirt next to his pillow. He pulled it close and breathed in the faint scent, wondering how much stronger it was for Werewolves. After a tired stretch he got dressed and went down for some breakfast. His dad was already sitting with some coffee and case files, and Stiles helped himself to a mug.

"Are you working today?" 

Noah looked up at him. "Not unless I get called in." Stiles nodded, taking a big mouthful of cereal. "Did you need something?"

"I need to talk with you about something later, but I want to do more research first."

"Anything I should be worried about?" Stiles shook his head. "Alright, well, let me know when you're ready." Stiles nodded and finished his breakfast, getting a map off his computer before heading to Peter's.

Stiles started feeling anxious when he saw the fancy apartment building he was apparently looking for, complete with a fancy entrance and bellhop helping a much better dressed lady with her groceries. Finding a spot to pull over, he texted Peter to confirm the address, kind of hoping he'd copied it down wrong and wouldn't have to embarrass himself by going in there, and hoping Peter was already awake.

**_It's the right one._ **  
**_I let the front desk know I'm expecting you._ **

After finding a place to park, Stiles tried to pull himself together before getting out and walking up to the entrance. The doorman smiled and opened the door for him, and he went into a sizeable lobby, quickly locating and moving towards the set of elevators. After checking Peter's unit number repeatedly, the elevator showed up and he went in, finding and pushing the number, followed by the 'close doors' button. The doors opened to a small area with a unit on either side. As he left the elevator, one of them opened to reveal Peter in a pair of pajama pants clinging to his hips and still with bedhead hair.

"Did I wake you up?" Stiles asked as he quickly followed Peter in, freed from the prying eyes of whatever fancy ass rich neighbours Peter had.

Peter shook his head and closed the door. "Shoes off," he said, pointing to the rack by the door. Stiles quickly pushed them off and set them with Peter's. "Coffee?"

Stiles shook his head and looked over to the living room where a pile of old tomes was lying on the coffee table, going over and sitting on the couch as he tried to make out the titles. A lot of the covers were too worn to read, and looking for a cover page made him realize many weren't written in English. Peter came back with his coffee and sat down at the other end of the couch, reclining across two cushions.

"I lost a lot of my collection in the fire, but my library didn't have room for it all, so most of the stuff stayed in storage when I wasn't using it."

"I don't think I can read most of these, and some of them look ready to fall apart."

Peter made a tense sigh, taking a sip of his coffee to calm himself down. "They have their own environmentally controlled room in storage, but it's supposed to be monitored and maintained. System failed while it was abandoned for 6 years, and I recently found out my old book restorer died. I'm trying to find someone I can trust to rebind some of them."

"You don't want to keep the original binding?" Stiles looking down at the antique collection.

Peter shrugged. "It's more about the contents for me. Research."

"Why are books on supernatural research always so old, anyway? I mean the creatures still exist, you'd think people would write more modern books on them," Stiles thought aloud as he pulled his feet up on the couch.

"Most people don't believe in the supernatural anymore. To write a serious book about how to recognize and interact with them could end a career nowadays. They exist, but getting them professionally bound is risky and expensive, so they tend to be rare and only shared through trusted acquaintances. You also have to realize a lot of creatures have been hunted to extinction, or close enough to believed to be long gone, so modern first-hand accounts are lacking."

"Like what?" Stiles asked, not sure whether to be upset because _genocide_ , or relieved he didn't have to worry about some of the more dangerous creatures.

"Sparks were one."

Stiles was surprised, but it kind of made sense. If they were more common, Peter probably wouldn't have been the only one to realize so far. "I guess they were one of the 'close enough' ones?"

Peter tilted his head and sighed thoughtfully. "Kind of. You remember I told Derek he had a spark as an Alpha?"

"Yeah."

"Well, what most people don't know is it's more literal." Peter paused, thinking carefully before asking a question. "Where do you think Alphas come from?"

Stiles raised an eyebrow, brain running through variations of 'where do babies come from'. "Other Alphas. Stealing their power. Well, _usually_ ," he amended, considering Scott.

"Yes, but if that Alpha had to steal it, where did they get it from? Keep going up the line, where does it come from?"

Stiles thought for a moment, but the answer didn't take much thought. "True Alphas. They generate the power themselves."

Peter tilted his head in partial agreement. "But it can only be stolen by their Betas. Altogether, a situation far too rare to account for the mass amount of Alphas running around."

Stiles furrowed his brow, trying to think of what other options could increase the Alpha population. "Ethan and Aiden killed one Alpha and both got the power, multiplying it."

Peter seemed impressed, but when he opened his mouth, it wasn't to say 'Bingo!'. Or 'bullseye', or whatever Peter would hypothetically say to congratulate someone being correct. "Also very rare. It's Sparks." Stiles raised an eyebrow and pointed to himself, Peter nodding.

"Sparks are magic. They're responsible for many supernatural creatures, including Werewolves, and were also capable of activating dormant powers, such as I did with Lydia's Banshee powers. I could do that because my power was derived from a Spark, and took on some of their abilities. You've worked with mountain ash before. Activating the barrier is something you could do because you're a Spark."

Stiles recalled back to when Deaton had introduced him to the substance. He'd said Stiles needed to be the spark to ignite it, like gunpowder. He'd just taken it as part of the analogy, but maybe Deaton knew something. "So like Morrell and the Darach."

Peter shook his head. "They're Druids. Both are magic users, but that's about the limit for Druids. They rely on rituals and objects with inherent magical qualities – like mountain ash – to perform their magic. Sparks are like magical batteries. They can perform magic using their own energy, and more easily imbue non-magical items with magical qualities, as well as store their own energy in objects."

Stiles took a minute to absorb the information. "So, werewolves killed us for that power?"

"Some of them, probably. Deucalion knows a way to steal power that involves killing. However, until recently you were an inactive Spark, basically only being able to act as an on/off switch for magical items, like the mountain ash. That's the result of your ancestor's power being taken, and since they passed that diminished form onto you, they were alive to reproduce after having their power taken."

"What if they used necromancy or something? When you came back, Derek still had the Alpha power and you were back to being a Beta."

Peter smiled, surprisingly. "I think you're going to pick this up quickly. But from what I can tell, the Alphas didn't take the power themselves. The Druids, who were often jealous of the Sparks' abilities, helped transfer the magic to Werewolves. An Alpha Werewolf's bite turns you back on, activates your battery if you will, so you can start naturally generating and storing your own magical energy like a proper Spark."

"So...I should be careful around Druids? And Deucalion..."

"Yes, and yes. I'll teach you some defensive magic. I can read most of these, but it will still take time to translate and find what we're looking for."

Stiles nodded, pulling out his phone to check the time, and seeing a message from Scott, asking to hang out tonight. "I'm going to tell my dad, so he knows. You said it gets passed on from my ancestor. Could he be...?"

Peter shrugged. "Either of your parents. I've never smelled magic on him, and I don't think I ever met your mom."

"You can smell magic?"

"It smells faintly of ozone. I noticed it when I saw you Monday, and didn't process or realize the significance until Chris mentioned something."

"What?"

"He said when you showed up at the root cellar it temporarily stopped collapsing – even with the Darach's storm still going on – until they all got out safely."

"I did that?" Stiles asked, stomach churning as he realized that his dad had genuinely been at risk, and it was only his own 'actions' that ensured he was still here. If his magic hadn't worked...

"It seems so." Stiles looked up to see Peter looking at him with confused concern, probably smelling his anxiety.

"I don't remember much; I was half in a panic attack for most of it, and then I blacked out. I thought maybe the storm stopped, and it was just a natural conclusion that they got out. But if I hadn't made it there in time, if my magic hadn't worked... His life relied on me then. What if next time we're not so lucky?"

Peter's eyebrows furrowed slightly, maybe in sympathy. "If it weren't for you, he'd be dead. You have the power to change and affect things. By training, learning how to use your magic effectively and consistently, you can improve the odds of keeping the people you care about safe." Stiles nodded. He supposed having magic could only improve things. Well, accidental sex changes aside – although, he probably never would have gotten eaten out by Peter if it weren't for that, which was pretty awesome.

Peter must have picked up on the new scent of arousal, because after Stiles had texted Scott to come over to his place later so he could talk to him too, he looked up to see the Alpha smirking softly.

"Something on your mind?" Peter asked.

Stiles sighed somewhat dramatically. "Just that if I lose my virginity now, I'll need a shower before I see Scott, and I don't have time for both.

Peter got a mischievous smirk. "What about a couple orgasms _in_ the shower?"

Stiles bit his lip, checking the time again. "Yeah, I could probably do that."

Peter smiled and put his mug on the coaster before leading Stiles down the hall. They passed through what must be Peter's bedroom, the bed recently slept in. Peter grabbed a couple towels from a closet before showing Stiles the en suite bathroom. The older man undid his drawstring and let his pants fall, revealing his neatly groomed bush, and uncut cock, which was just starting to chub up. Stiles licked and bit his lip.

"I guess there's no point in circumcising with the healing factor."

"Well, and if a male ever full shifts, the sheath being intact is important."

Stiles nodded and Peter moved past him, facing away as he turned on and adjusted the water temperature, leaving Stiles to strip. Stiles walked up and joined him as Peter got in, the werewolf smiling and stroking the hickey that was still on Stiles thigh, a reminder of last night. With his warm, wet hand still holding Stiles' thigh, Peter rubbed his thumb against Stiles' clit, feeling it twitch and sliding his thumb through the boy's slit before gently pressing into his hole. Stiles moaned and rocked against his hand.

"Turn around and brace yourself against the wall. I want to see how far the changes go," Peter said, withdrawing his hand. Stiles huffed but did as he was told, hearing a cap open and close before a smooth finger was probing at his ass and sliding in.

Stiles moaned softly, biting his lip. "What, are you a doctor now?"

"No," Peter replied, feeling around until he elicited a softly moaned " _oh_ " from the Spark, "but I think that's your prostate."

"Yeah," Stiles agreed headily, pressing his hips back. Peter obliged him with another finger, kneeling behind the boy for a better angle as he gently rubbed at Stiles' prostate.

"You ever come from this?"

"No, b-but I've used...toys," Stiles answered, voice going up as Peter sent shocks of pleasure through him.

"Yeah?" Peter asked, licking Stiles cheek before biting it.

"Fuck," the boy startled, clenching a bit in surprise before answering. "Nhnn."

"You okay?" Peter checked.

"Yeah, just surprised." Stiles legs were trembling as Peter massaged his prostate more firmly, making the boy's whines echo off the tiles nicely. Peter pressed his thumb back in Stiles' cunt, the additional angle and pressure making Stiles whimper and squirm. "Peter..."

"Are you going to cum for me?" Stiles moaned and let out a squeaky "yes". "Go ahead, baby. Cum on my fingers." With a few shuddering rocks of his hips, Peter felt the boy give in and cum, both holes clenching around him as he cried out. Peter held and stroked his thigh as he pulled his hand out, supporting Stiles as he got his strength back before standing up.

"So, _Dr. Hale_ , what's the verdict?" Stiles asked, turning to face him.

"The verdict," Peter replied, running his hands along Stiles' sides and ass and squeezing on his way, "is that I'm going to knot you up and fill you with cum when you're ready." Stiles groaned, and Peter nipped playfully at his jaw before moving up to his lips and kissing him softly, but quickly getting deeper.

"Isn't there...something about...not... kissing friends with...with benefits?" Stiles asked between kisses. Peter stopped, pulling back to look at him.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No." Stiles looked almost offended and upset that Peter would suggest it.

"Then don't worry about how other people do things," Peter said, sharing a longer kiss to make up for the interruptions. Stiles could feel the Alpha's hard wet cock nudging his thighs and cunt. He reached down, wrapping his hand around it and stroking it firmly, making Peter groan into his mouth and thrust.

"Do you want to cum?"

Peter leaned back, looking at Stiles' flushed lips which were a little swollen from all the kissing. Running a thumb along them, he said "I want your mouth." Stiles licked his lips, catching Peter's thumb and the salty taste of his cunt on it, and looking down at the man's hard cock throbbing in his hand. Without further suggestion, he knelt down in front of it and gave it a few pumps, watching the way the foreskin slid back and forth around the head, and the bit of precum he squeezed out. He leaned forward and licked it up, running his tongue broadly across the head of Peter's cock and making the man groan. Stiles grinned at the response, looking up to see Peter's face, and was not disappointed. He gave another lick, and popped the head in his mouth, sucking out more precum.

Peter gripped his hair lightly and guided Stiles' hand to his thigh. "You can tap twice to safeword."

Stiles popped his mouth off and smiled. "Okay." Holding Peter's length up, he licked and nipped at the underside, just above Peter's balls and making the man jerk slightly. He sucked on the spot, playing with the Werewolf's foreskin and slit. Licking and sucking his way back up Peter's length, he put the head back in his mouth, sliding Peter further into his wet, searing heat. Peter groaned, sliding tentatively across Stiles' soft tongue. He kept his little back and forth motions short as Stiles started sucking, pulling him in deeper until Peter's cock was butting against the back of his throat. Peter pulled back a bit, but Stiles kept bobbing his head until he figured out how to swallow around the intrusion, moaning around the little stutter of Peter's hips. Peter gripped his hair tighter as the vibrations coursed through him, feeling his knot start to swell.

He pulled out, gripping the base and glowering a little as the boy cheekily gave his head little licks. Guiding him up by his hair, he turned the boy around, lubing up his thighs with some soap. "Keep your legs tight," he said, moving his hands to Stiles' hips before thrusting into the slick passage he'd made. Peter groaned as he thrust, knot continuing to swell, and getting little grunts and pants from Stiles as his cock rubbed against his clit. Stiles moved his hand in front so Peter slid against it when he thrust in, the angle making the head of his cock grind more firmly against the boy's throbbing clit.

Peter bit the back of Stiles' neck, thrusting past the point he would normally be locked in place. His boy's pleasured sounds turned to one of pain, and Stiles reached back to grip Peter's hair. "Ease up." The Wolf's jaw slackened in compliance and he shook as he came between Stiles' legs and against his hand and clit. Panting, he moved his hand down to rub at Stiles' clit, rubbing at him until the boy joined his orgasm. As Stiles' legs relaxed, Peter slid out, gripping his popped knot and licking gently at the spot he bit.

Stiles turned around and looked down at Peter's knot, Peter moving Stiles' hand to replace his and moaning softly as the boy squeezed and milked him, using two hands to encase it. "I can't wait to have that inside me. Are you going to stretch me open, Peter?" The Werewolf groaned and nodded, nuzzling into the boy's neck.

It took a few minutes for Peter to stop being knot drunk, but he grabbed the soap and started washing Stiles down as the boy continued to hold his knot. By time it had mostly gone down, his boy was fairly thoroughly clean, except, "You should brush your teeth, you have dick breath."

Stiles let go of Peter's soft member, and the man stepped out, quickly drying himself off before helping Stiles out and rubbing him down with the fluffy towel. "I didn't bring a toothbrush," Stiles said as his hair was thoroughly tousled into a damp mess.

Peter stood back to look him over before hanging up the towel. He rooted through the cupboard for a few seconds before pulling out a spare toothbrush, still packaged. With a cut from his claw, he got it open and handed it to Stiles.

"Does this mean I'll have a toothbrush at your place now?" he teased, knowing the implications of commitment it commonly held. He stepped up to the sink and started brushing.

"It'd probably be wise," Peter replied, grabbing a hairdryer and brushing Stiles hair as he used it so it wouldn't be obvious Stiles had showered while he was out. Stiles basked in the care. Last night, as much as he enjoyed it, when Peter had taken his shirt ( _Peter's shirt_ ) and left, it had left Stiles feeling somewhat vulnerable, bereft, _used_. The gentle washing him down and making him presentable was nice, even if simple, and he preferred it to the abrupt departure.

"Are you always going to dry me off and spoil me like this?" Stiles asked after rinsing out his mouth.

Peter turned the dryer off, checking Stiles' hair. "I came back to your place after humping a tree last night-" Stiles looked at Peter's face in the mirror and he appeared to be serious, making Stiles laugh. Peter eyed him, but was also smirking a bit. "-but you were already asleep, hanging with your ass out and your hair still wet. I pulled the blanket up because I was worried you'd get sick." Stiles didn't know he'd come back. It made him feel a little better about last night, knowing Peter had still taken care of him, even if he wasn't awake for it.  
"Thanks," he said quietly, setting the toothbrush with Peter's. 

Peter's wolf preened at providing for his ~~mate~~ _brat_. He turned the boy around and sniffed his breath. "Should be good." Stiles smiled, nipping playfully at Peter's chin before picking up his clothes and getting dressed again. Peter didn't bother, grabbing his pants and the towels and throwing them with the laundry. "Do you want me to show you out?"

"While I'm sure some of them would enjoy it, I don't think giving your neighbours an eyeful is considered acceptable in a place like this," Stiles replied, grinning. Peter rolled his eyes and opened his mouth, probably to say he could put some clothes on, but Stiles cut him off. "I'm good. I'll text you later, let you know how things went. If our cover's blown." Stiles smirked to himself at the accidental pun.

"Alright," Peter said, walking him to the door anyway, but staying out of view. Stiles left with a bit of bounce to his step, no longer feeling self conscious at the lavish surroundings as he left through the lobby and went back home to talk to his dad and Scott.


	5. Sept 26-27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a week late. But it's extra long, so maybe that can make up for it? *crosses fingers* My beta is sleeping right now and hasn't finished looking at this, so there might be some touch ups later. Any mistakes are my inpatient self's XD
> 
> cw for another canon-typical injury
> 
> There's also a bit of watersports scene (you should probably empty your bladder before getting knotted to someone) that's placed between double horizontal lines. Feel free to skip it if you'll be squicked, it's not important to the plot.
> 
> I'm probably going to end up adding kink and sex tags in the chapter end notes at some point for all the smut chapters.

"Okay, so in terms of preventing Druids from stealing your power, it seems you'd generally have to interrupt or sabotage whatever ritual they use, which I haven't managed to find yet. So we're going to start with defensive magic against physical attacks, such as from Werewolves.

"I did some research on immobilizing magic. There are a few approaches. You can use external force so they feel like they're encased in rock; they'll still be able to flex and strain their muscles, but ultimately can't bend or move anywhere. The other affects control of the muscles themselves, either making them rigid, or totally relaxing them. Both still make them unable to move, and the latter will cause them to collapse, due their legs and such being too lax to support them."

"So which method are we starting with?"

"Affecting the body directly has more potential for harm, so we'll try using the external force one. Try to imagine a barrier around my hand to block it from moving," Peter said as he started wiggling and moving his fingers. Stiles tried to focus in on it, but he couldn't track the movements well enough to stop them in their tracks. Frustrated, he focussed on a broader barrier around the hand, filling in until it molded around the individual fingers, their movements becoming sluggish until they stopped.

"Stiles."

"Sorry."

"I didn't mean 'encased in rock' to be so literal," Peter sighed, looking down at his hand which was now surrounded by a solid ball of cement-like material.

"But that would be useful, right? Like I'm not exerting energy on it anymore, so I could go deal with other things and the enemy would have to either break out themselves, or wait for me to get rid of it."

"That's a good point, but now I have to get my hand out. So the question is, _can_ you get rid of it?" Peter asked, wrist flopping around from the weight of the 'rock'. Stiles focussed again, but all he could see was the ball. He tried to picture it disappearing, and it visually flickered and faded in and out a bit, but didn't become any less solid. After a few more failed attempts, including one where Peter thought Stiles was going to pull his hand off _with_ the rock, he made him stop. He went to the closet and pulled out a toolbox, rooting through it one handed until he found what he was looking for: a hammer. Stiles followed him to the kitchen, and Peter set his trapped hand on the counter, giving it a few testing taps with the hammer.

"Can't you just like smash it against the wall?" Stiles asked nervously as Peter hit it with increasing force.

"The wall won't heal, my hand will," Peter gritted.

"That's some messed up perspective..." Stiles said, wincing as he watched over Peter's shoulder.

Peter sighed and pulled the hammer away. "Stiles, you're making me nervous. Grab a snack and go to the living room or something. I don't have safety goggles for you if it shatters anyways." Stiles pouted but rooted through the cupboard until he found some cookies, taking the box to the couch and listening anxiously as he munched. After some more hits, there was a loud crack, followed by Peter swearing and growling. Stiles rushed in and saw the rock was now broken open, and Peter was carefully pulling some of the pieces from his broken, bloody fingers.

"Holy shit! What the fuck, Peter? You actually broke your hand?"

Peter sighed at the boy's dramatics, holding up the mangled limb as evidence. "I think that's obvious," he said before taking it to the tap and running it under some cold water, gently wiping away blood and debris. Gritting his teeth, he realigned some of the fingers to help them heal and motioned for Stiles to go back to the living room with him. He sat on the couch, Stiles taking up his spot again in front of the cookies, and nervously stuffing his face with a couple as they waited for Peter's hand to heal. Stiles held up a cookie in offering, and Peter leaned forward, opening his mouth. Stiles realized the man's fangs were out, probably from breaking his hand, and he carefully fed Peter the cookie, the Alpha biting it and pulling the rest into his mouth with his tongue. After alternating some more cookies between them, Peter could flex and move his fingers almost normally again.

"How late are you staying?" Peter asked, figuring it was almost dinner time, since Stiles had come after school.

"My dad's home tonight, so I have to make sure he gets something to eat."

"He can't handle that himself?"

"Well, his version of dinner would be something microwaved and unhealthy."

Peter eyed the almost empty box of cookies Stiles was still holding. The boy glared cheekily, but set it down. "You could order delivery for him. Chinese?" Stiles seemed to be considering it, but still hesitated. "I'll pay."

"You don't have to," Stiles was quick to say.

"It's fine," Peter said, pulling out his laptop so they could order. "My apology for keeping you so late."

Stiles smirked. "Yeah? Are you gonna wreck me tonight?"

Peter looked over at him. "No. I'm going to teach you how to do the spell right, so you have something to show for your time here when he asks."

"Oh."

"Now what do you want?" Peter asked, turning the laptop to face Stiles.

"What's my budget?" Stiles asked as he scrolled through the menu.

"Whatever you want. Enough for leftovers if you want," Peter said, getting up and heading to the kitchen so he could clean up the earlier mess, and start working on _their_ dinner.

"You're sure?" Stiles asked one more time.

"I'm sure, but if it makes you happy, I have to approve the payment amount anyway, so you won't spend more of my money than I'm willing." That seemed to satisfy Stiles, and after a while he'd picked out what he wanted, going to the kitchen to see what Peter was cooking.

"I'm done."

Peter nodded and turned off the veggies for the stir fry. "Can you keep an eye on this?" Stiles agreed and checked on the stove as Peter went to deal with the payment. "What time's your dad home? Should I send this now?" Peter called from the living room.

"He's already home. He'll probably make his own dinner if we wait."

"Alright, let him know it should be there in about half an hour."

Stiles texted his dad, shuffling out of the way as Peter came back in and finished the food, plating it for both of them.

**_Training late. Ordered Chinese for you, should be there in 30 mins. Save leftovers._**

Stiles put his phone away and sat down with Peter, blowing on the steaming food before trying it. He gave a thumbs up while his mouth was full, and Peter gave a soft chuckle as he started eating.

* * *

"You did good work today," Peter said as Stiles pulled on his shoes, finally getting ready to leave. "I want to fit another training session in tomorrow or Thursday if you're up for it. I'm not sure how quickly your magic will regenerate." Stiles nodded and slung his bag over his shoulder.

"Can I still come tomorrow if my magic's not up for a full training sesh?" he asked, stepping forward.

"If you want. Do you need me to drive you home?" Peter replied, wrapping his arms lightly around the Spark's waist.

Stiles shook his head. "I'm not tired, per se. It's hard to describe...Like, tired and hungry are both low needs, but they're different, and hunger won't really affect my driving ability unless it's really bad. I can feel it kind of here," he said, patting his chest, "but it shouldn't affect my cognition."

"Be careful, because your body _can_ convert regular energy into magic energy if you take it too far, and it can make you lose consciousness or worse. If you start feeling like that, let me know."

Stiles nodded and looked down. "We, uh, we decided kisses were cool, right?"

"We did."

"Then..." Stiles put his head back up and quickly pecked Peter on the lips before he could lose his nerve. "Thanks for dinner. And uh, not mauling me for breaking your hand."

"I offered to train you Stiles. Some mishaps was a given. Besides, I've trained Werewolf children, which involves inevitable pain."

Stiles snorted, but smiled. "Alright, well, I'll let you know tomorrow if I'm coming over. I'll probably want to stop at home for a bit after school first."

Peter nodded. "Alright, be good. Get some sleep."

"I'll think about it," Stiles 'joked', before leaving.

* * *

Stiles had only just closed the door behind him when Peter gently grasped his wrist, pulling his hand up to his face and taking a slow sniff.

"Were you playing with yourself before you came over?"

Stiles chewed his lip and looked down, embarrassed. "I wasn't sure if coming over without training meant we were fucking. So I...opened myself up after my shower."

"I would have done that for you," Peter said, licking a couple of Stiles' fingers before putting them in his mouth. Stiles made a soft little moan as his fingers were closed in the soft, hot mouth, Peter looking at him as he sucked gently on them. Releasing Stiles' hand, Peter spoke quietly, instructing him to take his shoes and hoodie off, which Stiles eagerly complied. "Now, do you want to go to my room and strip and wait for me, or do you want me to carry you?"

Stiles looked down the hallway. The idea of presenting himself and waiting for Peter like something for his pleasure, or bared and waiting to be ravished, appealed to him, his clit twitching in agreement. But in honesty, he knew his anxiety would probably start acting up, and he didn't know how long Peter would leave him waiting. "Carry me," he decided, turning back to Peter.

Peter smiled, pulling him in closer by his waist before hoisting him up by his thighs and pinning them to his hips. Stiles flailed for a moment before grabbing Peter's neck, nuzzling into it to soothe himself from the brief scare as Peter started walking. He shifted one hand under Stiles' butt as he used the other to open his bedroom door, walking them in and setting Stiles on the large bed. Stiles huffed when Peter stood back up, missing the closeness and body heat, but he savoured the show as Peter started stripping for him, pulling his shirt off, and then leisurely undoing his pants and sliding them down. Stiles could see the bulge in the front of his briefs, and knew from the other day that it got a lot bigger. He couldn't wait to feel it warm inside him and stretching him open, which reminded him to start taking his own clothes off.

Peter had taken his socks off while Stiles' view was obscured by his shirt so the teen could still watch as he lowered his underwear, cock bouncing as it was freed. Stiles made a soft whine as he bit his lip, pupils probably dilated as Peter pulled his briefs off and tossed them, strong thighs framing his cock as he crawled on the bed, helping Stiles undo his pants as he kissed him. His mouth was soft, and just the right amount of firm, as well as a bit spicy that tasted like cinnamon gum. Peter pulled his pants off, and Stiles was quick to follow with his underwear, the ground strewn haphazardly with their clothes.

They shuffled up to the middle of the bed where Peter laid on him, a pleasant weight as he kept kissing Stiles deeply and unhurriedly. Stiles was a little more inpatient, and wrapped his legs around Peter's waist, his cunt aching with the need to be filled. Peter moaned and rocked his hips, Stiles' pussy slicking up his cock as they rubbed together. Stiles reached down to try to guide Peter inside him, but the man stopped him when he felt the head of his cock press against Stiles' entrance, the teen's hand still wrapped around his length.

"How many fingers did you get up to?"

"Three."

"Am I still knotting you?"

"Yes. _Please_ , Peter," Stiles begged, rocking his hips, although he was mostly pinned with more of Peter's weight on him now.

"Relax, baby. I'm going to fill you up, just like you want, but I want you begging for my knot after this, not too scared from pain to try it again," Peter said, drawing Stiles' hand up and sucking on the inside of his wrist. Stiles groaned at the unexpected erogenous zone, and felt Peter sliding in two fingers easily, followed by a third. Stiles moaned. Peter's fingers were clearly thicker than his, but the stretch was pleasant, and familiar, like when he finally worked in a toy after opening himself up.

"Fuck, you're going to ruin me for humans, aren't you?"

"Probably," Peter panted, moving his mouth to Stiles' neck and licking and sucking, moving his mouth so no one spot would start marking up. Peter was three fingers deep in him, slowly spreading them and rubbing Stiles' clit with his thumb.

"Peter, please," Stiles panted, shuddering as Peter curled his fingers a bit and stroked his inner walls.

"Just one more," Peter replied, nibbling and sucking on his ear lobe. He tucked in a fourth finger as Stiles moaned from having his ear sucked in Peter's wet heat. Stiles groaned and whimpered in pleasure as Peter opened him up, not leaving the fourth finger in too long so Stiles would still enjoy it before the knot formed. The man pulled his fingers out and guided his cock back to Stiles' entrance, swallowing the boy's inpatient whine with his mouth before moving his kiss to his chin so Stiles could tell him to stop if he needed. Stiles moaned and pressed his hips up for more as Peter pressed the head of his cock inside him. Peter moaned, rocking his hips in little motions as he worked himself deeper, Stiles still tight around him.

When he was in all the way, he paused, Stiles whining as he tried to squeeze around the Werewolf's cock in encouragement. Peter groaned and chuckled, sliding out part way and thrusting back in, loving the sound Stiles made. He started working up a rhythm of thrusting in and out, Stiles rocking his hips as he held on to Peter's neck and scratched his back with the other hand. The Alpha growled lightly, gripping Stiles' hips and pulling them up more as he thrust down into the boy.

"Peter, Peter," Stiles panted, looking up at the Werewolf above him now that their chests weren't pressed together. He moved one of his hands down to play with his clit, but Peter shifted his grip to free one of his hands, Stiles wrapping his legs tighter around his waist to help hold himself up as Peter started rubbing his clit. He could feel the knot starting to swell inside him and whimpered and moaned as Peter's thrusts became a bit harder.

"Stiles, fuck," Peter groaned, leaning forward to kiss and lightly nip at his mate's face.

"No biting," Stiles said, remembering what happened last time Peter knotted. He stroked his fingers through Peter's hair as the nips became shaky, tender kisses, Peter whining as his knot became harder to push in and out, Stiles moaning and having the breath pushed out of him with each sharp thrust until finally Peter was locked inside, thumb pressing harshly on Stiles clit as he rubbed. Stiles could feel the warm, growing pressure, groaning through the pleasure pain of the firm touch and Peter's knot stretching him to his limits. He panted and cried out as he came, milking Peter's knot with his contractions and drawing Peter into a long, intense orgasm with him as the man moaned into his neck, hot seed spilling into Stiles in spurts as he clenched around him.

By the time their orgasms were dying down, Stiles felt full to bursting, Peter's knot barely holding back all the cum he pumped into him. Stiles let his legs fall down in the afterglow, squirming a bit and wrapping his arms around Peter's back as the Werewolf nuzzled him. Stiles turned his head and nuzzled and kissed his Wolf's jaw, Peter humming softly in appreciation.

It didn't take long for Stiles to start getting inpatient again. Even after cumming, his ass had still held the same aroused, achy need to be filled that his cunt had.

"Peter," Stiles said, sucking the man's neck until he had a nice hickey, knowing it would fade before anyone else would see it. It was kind of nice knowing those marks were just for his eyes. Peter moaned at the sensation and Stiles rocked his hips. "When can we have round two?"

Peter chuckled, shifting up to look at him. "I've created a monster."

Stiles rocked his hips again petulantly. "I normally cum a few times a day, and I've been tolerating a couple _every few days_. Besides, I still want you to fuck my ass."

Peter smirked. " Are you sure you don't want me to leave a virginity for someone else?"

Stiles huffed, but humored him. "Well, my dick will still be a virgin when I get it back, but I want my first time to be with someone who knows what they're doing, at least when I'm receiving. I've used toys there before, so it's not like it's my first time being penetrated, and my first time with someone else will still be our first time together."

Peter hummed at the thoughtful answer. "Are you sure? I can get a little rough when I'm knotting."

"Are you kidding?" Stiles joked excitedly. "I love it when you get like that. As long as you're not biting me."

Peter looked at him analytically before kissing him and sitting up, satisfied Stiles was being honest. "Alright, turn around."

"What?"

"Turn over," Peter said, tapping Stiles' thigh. Stiles raised an eyebrow but tucked his leg up, moving past Peter's chest, the Werewolf helping him flip over while they were still connected, Stiles' hips lifted slightly as the fronts rested on Peter's thighs.

"Oh," Stiles moaned softly, the new position making Peter's knot press against some nice places. He felt the older man spread his cheeks and blushed as he inspected his holes, running his thumb along the edge of his cunt where Stiles was spread open on his knot.

"You look good like this," Peter said, teasing the edge some more before moving up to rub at the slick that had dribbled over Stiles' asshole.

"I did a more thorough cleaning, but other than that, I didn't prep my ass."

"You weren't planning on this?" Peter asked, stroking circles against the furled entrance. Stiles moaned, holding onto the pillow. _Peter's_ pillow.

"I was hoping, but then I started getting too worked up, and I knew if I didn't stop and head over then, I probably wouldn't."

"I'm glad you decided to come over," Peter said, squeezing Stiles' cheeks.

"Yeah? You not getting your knot milked as much as you like?" Stiles teased.

"Not nearly, considering you're the only person I've knotted."

Stiles tried to sit up a bit, turning to look at Peter. "You weren't a virgin, were you?"

Peter shook his head, gently rubbing Stiles' back and easing him back down. "Knotting is mostly exclusive to Alphas, probably related to the Alphas usually being the only breeding pair within a pack. I've known some born Wolves who could knot too, though."

"But not you?" Stiles asked, deciding it was probably a bad idea to bring up Scott. He'd ask the True Alpha about it later.

"No," Peter replied. "The nightstand on your right has lube in the drawer. Can you get it out?" Stiles shuffled his upper body to the edge of the bed and reached in awkwardly, fumbling around a bit before pulling out the bottle and handing it back to Peter. Stiles could hear him open and close it, and a few moments later there was warm lube pressing against his hole, circling it a bit until Peter eased in his finger.

"So biting's off the table now?" Peter asked, voice not hinting at any judgement or disappointment, although Stiles was sure Peter would be disappointed if that was the case, whether he showed it or not.

"I don't actually mind the nips and stuff, I just remembered how hard you got-" _Oops_. Peter seemed to pick up on the accidental pun too, giving a playful little thrust now that his knot was starting to go down. "- _with biting_ ," Stiles clarified, rolling his eyes, "last time you were knotting."

"Did I hurt you?" Peter asked, gently stroking his fingers across the back of Stiles' neck and seeing it unmarked. Stiles couldn't see his face, but he sounded concerned and apologetic.

"You were at a limit," he said, "but I stopped it."

"I'm sorry," Peter replied. Stiles nodded. "We could use another safeword for situations like that if you like. For when a limit's being approached, or something needs to change, but the whole scene doesn't need to stop."

"Like what?"

"Yellow, usually. It's part of the traffic lights system. You can also ask your partner's colour to check in on them to see how they're doing, and if they're still physically and mentally capable of safewording if necessary. If everything's good, they can answer 'green'," Peter explained.

"That sounds good," Stiles agreed, moaning slightly and nuzzling into the pillow as Peter slid his slick finger in and out a few times before slowly adding another. Stiles bit his lip at the stretch, being reminded again of the thickness of the man's fingers. "Maybe we should just say no biting when you're at that point, if you have difficulty controlling it."

There was a brief pause before Peter agreed. "Okay," he said, working his fingers in and out for Stiles to adjust before starting to gradually scissor them.

"You could still bite a pillow or something," Stiles said, feeling kind of bad he was probably suppressing a major and possibly meaningful instinct.

"I'd rather just keep my teeth shut and keep scenting you," Peter replied. Stiles moaned as he felt another finger hook inside his rim, and gently pull him open. He whined and rocked his hips when the other two moved deeper and started massaging his prostate. "That's it baby. Just let Daddy take care of you." Stiles moaned and blushed, hips rocking and stimulating himself further with both Peter's fingers and his knot. "You're making a mess, baby boy," Peter scolded lightly, scooping up some of the cum leaking out from around his knot and pushing it into Stiles' ass. Stiles panted, trying to clear his head a bit and focus on holding the cum in.

"Maybe we could get you a gag for you to bite into, something we could slide inside me before you put it on so you still get the smell," _and taste_ , Stiles thought. Peter groaned at the idea, rolling his hips in little thrusts.

"That sounds like a plan. Maybe not all the time, but something to try," Peter said, adding another finger and making Stiles groan into the pillow. He worked his boy open a bit more before sliding his fingers out and wiping them off.

"Can I be on top this time?" Stiles asked, looking back.

Peter lifted the teen's hips and slid his cock out, stroking the pink, winking hole as it dribbled thick cum. "How's your magic?" Peter asked.

Stiles raised an eyebrow. "Not ready for another training session like yesterday's..."

"I was just thinking we could try some bondage if you're up for it," he said, lying back beside Stiles and crossing his wrists by the headboard. Stiles smirked and climbed on top of him, leaking some cum on Peter's belly. Recalling what he'd learned yesterday, Stiles focused on Peter's wrists, imagining an invisible, skin tight force field around them.

"Try it." He could see the muscles in Peter's arms bunch, but ultimately his wrists didn't budge.

"Good boy." Stiles beamed at the praise. "Now get that pussy up here so I can clean you up." Stiles shuffled up, making more of a mess on Peter's chest before he was positioned over the man's face, slowly lowering himself. Peter moaned, which sent little shivers through Stiles as the Alpha started licking out his own cum, tongue sliding deep in his used pussy. Stiles gripped the headboard and started rocking his hips, tilting them so Peter would lick and suck at his clit before going back to eating him out thoroughly. He started to realize just how much cum there was, as even with Peter swallowing and moaning around mouthfuls, his face was a mess of cum and slick, the liquids clinging to the short facial hair that rubbed against Stiles' soft lips.

Stiles got up and shifted so he was sitting lightly on Peter's chest. The man's pupils were somewhat blown, and Stiles looked back to see he was back to raging hardness. Turning back to the man beneath him, Stiles wiped some of the mess from his face, letting Peter lick and suck it from his thumb before gathering up more.

"Did you like that?" he asked, rocking against the broad chest he was straddling. Peter looked so good like this, bound up and subservient. He looked as much in his element now as when he was the one in control, making Stiles fall apart. The Werewolf groaned and nodded.

"You taste good."

Stiles laughed. "I think at least half of that was you, big guy."

The corner of Peter's mouth quirked in an almost smirk. " _We_ taste good," he amended.

"Mmh," Stiles hummed, whether in agreement or approval. He ran his fingers lightly over the inside of Peter's wrist, feeling a slight vibrational energy where the magic binding was. "We probably should have given you an alternative safe signal."

Peter licked his lips, head starting to clear a bit. "I'll teach you a few later, but," Peter said, rapping his knuckle against the headboard twice, "I can still tap like this if I need."

Stiles nodded. "Good." He ran his thumbs along Peter's palms, splaying the man's hands and stroking his fingers. "Your circulation's still good?"

"Yeah," Peter said, wiggling his fingers. "You're not applying any pressure. I can't even feel the field unless I try to move."

Stiles looked down at his face and touched his wrists again. "You can't feel that?"

"I can feel you touching me."

Stiles shook his head, pulling his hands back. "No, it's like vibrations and electricity."

Peter made a little shrug. "You can probably feel it because you're magic. I can only smell it."

"The ozone?"

Peter nodded. "Are you still wanting round two? Because I'm definitely ready," he said, giving a little thrust with his hips.

Stiles grinned. "I just wanted to hear you beg," he said, rubbing his clit a few times before shuffling back and positioning himself over Peter's cock. He gripped the hard, throbbing length and pointed it up, rubbing his hole against it before sinking down like on one of his toys. Peter's hips stuttered when Stiles' ass swallowed up the head of his cock in its hot, tight grip, both of them moaning, and Stiles tilting his head back as it pushed Peter's thick cock a little deeper. He started working his hips in little rocking motions, sinking down bit by bit until Peter bottomed out, Stiles sitting on his hips. Peter groaned as Stiles just sat there rocking his hips. He biceps flexed as he pulled at his bonds, but Stiles focussed his magic there to make sure it held.

"Stiles, stop teasing me already and just fuck," Peter huffed. Stiles grinned and squeezed around him before sliding up and sinking back down. He started working up a rhythm like he was riding one of his toys, but it was even better because he could watch and hear all of Peter's reactions, feel his cock twitch and throb inside him. He braced himself on Peter's chest as he bounced, his ass slapping against Peter's hips when he came down. He moaned when he felt Peter's knot start swelling again, and squeezed around him, popping it out and then circling his hips until it pushed back in. Peter moaned, head tilted back and hips trying to meet Stiles' thrusts to push himself back inside that tight heat. When he looked back, Stiles could see his fangs peeking out. Stiles rubbed his thumbs over Peter's nipples, pinching and pulling them to hardness as Peter bucked and squirmed under him.

"What's your colour?" Stiles asked, easing up his ministrations to gently rub and stroke at them.

"Green," Peter growled through his fangs. Stiles moaned and bit his lip as Peter's knot dragged out, pinching Peter's nipples again and causing the Werewolf to thrust back up and force it in, locking them together.

"Peter," he moaned, rocking his hips and grinding the hard knot against his prostate as he squeezed. He felt Peter tense up under him before growling and cumming, cock spasming inside as he flooded Stiles with cum. Stiles released the magic around Peter's wrists and let the Alpha grip his hips, Peter being careful of his claws even though he was still partially wolfed out. "You're doing so good, filling me up," Stiles smiled, still rocking his hips as he stroked Peter's chest and arms, which had been straining in his bonds, massaging the muscles. Peter moaned, moving a clawed thumb to Stiles' clit to help him out. Stiles whimpered softly, placing a hand on Peter's wrist.

Peter forced his fangs away before speaking. "I'll be gentle." Stiles let go, blushing at the way it aroused him to be in the Werewolf's powerful hands, the man's familiar thumb working him up as the claw dutifully avoided scratching him, but was a thrilling presence regardless. There was a brief thought that passed through Stiles, about how much he trusted Peter, considering Kali, but it was gone before he could really process it as he came, whimpering and moaning as he doubled over, clenching around Peter's knot in spasms and milking whatever the man had left to give. Peter moaned loudly at the sensation and wrapped his other arm around Stiles' back as he gently stroked his clit through his orgasm, his claws receded. He nuzzled and licked at Stiles' throat as the boy came, the contractions eventually becoming less intense until they were just little pressures. Peter rolled them onto their sides, and when he had come down from his orgasm, Stiles started lazily licking and kissing his lips, moaning at the taste of both of them still there.

"You taste good," Stiles hummed.

" _We_ taste good," Peter reminded, kissing him back. Stiles happily let them kiss for a while before talking.

"Is that why you like eating me out so much?"

Peter nodded, stroking his thumb across Stiles pink, swollen lips, which already looked perfect normally, but looked even more delicious when they'd been devoured with kisses. "Taste and smell, the physical taste and smell of you, us, your chemo signals, watching you squirm and hearing you moan and whimper. I thought I was going to cum, eating you out that first time, watching you fall apart and the satisfaction of making you cum with my mouth."

Stiles batted lightly at him. "It was my first time!" he said, nuzzling his blushing face into Peter's chest. It was weird to think a few days later he had Peter tucked snugly inside him, stretching him open and pumped full of the man's cum, but it was a nice feeling.

"And I intend to one-up myself," Peter said, nuzzling and licking at the boy's neck and forcing him to bare it and stop hiding his face.

"Can I turn around now?" Stiles asked once Peter had stopped tormenting him, his leg in an uncomfortable position with them still facing each other. Peter helped him turn again so they were spooning, both of them groaning as it pulled at the knot. Peter pulled the blanket over them and wrapped his arm around Stiles' middle.

* * *

* * *

After about 10 minutes of half dozing, Stiles to started squirming and shifting, clamping down on Peter's knot and making him groan.

"Stiles, if you can't stay still, I won't knot you again."

"No!" Stiles exclaimed, trying to be still. It lasted for a couple minutes before he started up again.

"Stiles..."

"I have to pee."

Peter sighed. "You can't wait?"

"Your knot's pressing on my bladder," Stiles said quietly. Peter sighed and rolled Stiles with him onto his back so he could sit up, making the boy moan as the knot shifted. Peter stopped.

"Did that help?"

"No," Stiles whimpered, shoving his hands between his legs. Peter moved the blanket off and, grabbing the boy's thighs, stood them up and walked them to the shower. "Peter!" Stiles shouted as he was carried, gripping Peter's arms so he wouldn't flop forward.

"Go pee."

Stiles shook his head. "I don't want to," he pouted, clamping down and making Peter groan.

"Stiles."

"It'll get everywhere!"

Peter huffed. "That's why we're in the shower."

"I'll pee on you," Stiles said, trying to deter him so he wouldn't have to do something so embarrassing. He should have known his first time was going too well.

"Stiles, I'm literally knot deep in your ass; I can handle some pee." Stiles stayed quiet. "Do you need some help?"

More silence, then, "Yes..." Peter moved forward so Stiles' spread knees were braced against the shower wall, and Stiles cautiously moved his hands there too. Still supporting him with one hand, Peter used his other to start pressing on Stiles' bladder, the boy whimpering and then whining as urine started leaking out. When Peter didn't change his mind, the boy eventually relaxed enough to start flowing. Peter moaned as the hot liquid poured down his balls, the warmth releasing something inside him. He barely said Stiles' name in warning before he was pissing inside him. Stiles immediately clenched up. "Are you...?!"

Peter groaned at the tight grip around him, nuzzling into the back of Stiles' head. "Sorry." Stiles moaned as Peter kept flooding him with hot liquid. It felt kind of nice, splashing against his insides.

"It's...I'm kind of...' _green_ '."

"Kind of?" Peter asked. Stiles huffed.

"Well, I'm embarrassed and I'm turned on, and yes, I'm Green." Peter sniffed. Now that he paid attention, he could smell a hint of Stiles' arousal under the scent of urine.

"Are you done peeing?" Peter asked as he finished up. There were a few more trickles from Stiles, and then a pause.

"I think so." Letting Stiles support himself, Peter reached over and pulled down the detachable shower head, making sure the water was warm. He smirked, adjusting the spray settings before directing it between Stiles' legs. The boy moaned loudly as the warm water blasted his clit, Peter spreading his lips with one hand so he could see what he was doing as he moved the powerful stream of water around the small area. He could feel Stiles clenching up around him as he kept making desperate little sounds. Then his orgasm was tearing through him as he made a drawn out, keening moan, spasming intensely around Peter.

Peter moaned, using his thumb to switch it to a gentler spray and keeping it pointed at Stiles as the boy shook.

"Fuck," Stiles panted the intense orgasm finally died down. Peter helped him lower his cramping legs to the ground, keeping a supporting arm around his middle as he washed the water over their groins and legs. His knot eventually pulled out, and Stiles whined as he clenched his pucker against the flood of liquids wanting to come out.

"Relax," Peter said. He worked a couple fingers in and spread Stiles' hole open, spraying some of the warm water inside, which got a moaned whimper before the boy relaxed, letting Peter clean him out.

Stiles helped wash the cum off Peter's chest and face with the wash cloth, but they kept their hair mostly dry this time.

* * *

* * *

"I should go home," Stiles said, checking his phone. He started picking up his clothes and getting dressed. Peter tossed his scattered clothes with the laundry before going over to his walk in closet and picking out something to put on. "Are you going out?" Stiles asked, seeing him come out fully dressed.

"I'm going with you. Unless your dad's going to level a shotgun at me if he sees me there."

"He's at work. Are you riding shotgun and running home again?" Peter shrugged, wearing more relaxed clothing anyways.

"Sure."

Stiles smirked, putting on his shoes. "You're not going to hump a tree again, are you?"

"Do you want me to not hump any trees?"

"I might get jealous."

"Are you worried I might leave you for my tree lover?" Stiles could only laugh at first, but before he could respond, Peter opened the door and Stiles was left trying not to laugh, holding off on his response until they were inside the elevator where the neighbours wouldn't overhear.

"I've always thought I'd be more open to sharing if I could participate."

"Oh? Do you want me to hump you against the tree, then?" Stiles snorted lightly, but Peter caught a whiff of interest.

"I might be okay with that." The elevator door opened, but not to the lobby. Stiles expected to see someone waiting to get in, but instead Peter stepped out and motioned for Stiles to follow him. He took him down the fire stairs one floor, and outside, bypassing the lobby.

"So is it the outdoor part, or being pinned between a tree and a hard place?" he asked, leading them around to the street and letting Stiles walk them to his Jeep.

Stiles grinned at the implication of Peter being the _hard_ place. He liked having someone to banter and joke with. "Both?" he responded, letting them in the car. Before he could start it up, Peter leaned over and kissed him, Stiles moaned softly in surprise as he relaxed into the kiss.

"I think we can arrange that. Some of the woods is still private Hale property." Peter looked smug, even in the dark, and Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Maybe, but I'd rather go there and practice some discreet magic. At least until I'm 18, when it won't get you arrested if we're caught. The boundary's not exactly obvious."

Peter made a put upon sigh, but buckled up and placed his hand on the back of Stiles' neck. The Spark suspected Peter was checking any pain levels from being knotted twice, and draining as he deemed fit. "As you wish."

Stiles turned to him. "Was that a Princess Bride reference?" Peter just shrugged unrevealingly.


	6. Stetopher Week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if chapter summaries show in notifications, but tldr;
> 
> Chapter update for Sparked is on hold while I focus on Stetopher Week, so there should be some Stetopher one-shots/shorts coming up to fill your cravings until I get back into Sparked.

Sorry for the delay in updating. I decided to add an extra chapter before the one planned (it'll include flashbacks to Stiles' transformation), but my motivation for it is kind of MIA. So I've decided to focus on Stetopher Week now, so I can hopefully finish some of them in time. I'll be putting them in a [series you can follow](https://archiveofourown.org/series/852009), or you can follow my profile if you want to get email notifications when I post them, so you can still get your Stetopher cravings filled while this is on hold ;) I have 3 planned right now, they're a bit longer than the Sterek ones I did last year, so I might not get them out in time, but there is stuff in the works, and hopefully Stetopher Week will work out the kink I've had trying to work on this


	7. Sept 28-29 & Flashbacks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A clarifier that any notes I make that seem to minimize the unhealthy aspects of a relationship are not meant to condone any potential harm, only to give readers a better idea of how triggering it's likely to be. For example, overt sexual violence might be much more likely to trigger them, and much more severely than things which are unhealthy, but aren't intended to harm (which is more what this story is like). Things like the underage tag still come with inherent dubcon, and while many healthy practices of consent, etc. are included, I don't mean it to mask the unhealthy aspects for readers that might not recognize them as easily.
> 
> Also, Peter might seem a bit OOC with the praise and affirmation and stuff in regards to Stiles' magic, but it's something he's consciously choosing to do for reasons that might be explained later.
> 
> Also, I've added an **Anti-Natalism** tag. In short, it's an ethical position that birth is negative. If you have a problem with that, you're probably not going to like the ending either. It's part of the plot arc, so arguing against it in the comments isn't going to change the direction of the fic, and arguing with **me** (or anyone else) will not change the **character's mind**. Basically, this is not the place.
> 
> **Flashbacks (LAST WEEK) are mainly from September 20th. PRESENT is September 28th-29th** This chapter answers a lot of the questions and apprehension people have been having, as well as Chris shows up, so I hope you enjoy :)

* * *

_LAST WEEK_

* * *

_Firm bodies pressed against him from front and back, grinding their hardness against him, a pair of hands on his hips._

_"Are you going to be a good boy for us?" the one in front asked._

_Stiles nodded eagerly, somehow feeling both parched and drooling. The man smiled and slid his hand down, grinding it against Stiles' bulge. Scruff rubbed gently at the back of his neck, and hands were all over him, tugging his pants down over his round bum, and pulling his shirt off. His underwear was growing moist in anticipation, and it was pulled off too. The man behind him squeezed his ass and gave it a firm slap, making Stiles moan, and stumble a little into the chest in front of him._

_"Do you want that again?" A hand slid up his back._

_Stiles nuzzled in the man's neck, biting his lip. "Yes, please." There was quickly another smack on the other side, and Stiles squirmed, gripping the man's shirt and bending over slightly as he was repeatedly spanked. "Fuck," he groaned, panting by the time it seemed to stop. He was pulled upright again, hot mouth trailing down his chest, licking at his skin and sucking his nipples._

_As the man continued down, reaching his boner which was standing up proudly, Stiles was pulled back into the lap of the man behind him. They spread his legs, and lifted them up, holding his balls up out of the way._

_"Look at how wet you are, eager for us to breed you, fill you up." The man's hand came up, covered in Stiles' slick. Stiles nodded and licked his lips, something itching at the back of his mind, but he didn't want to think about it. The man knelt in front of him, giving Stiles' hole a few licks, tongue hot and firm as it pressed inside. Stiles' legs were still being held up, and he felt deliciously helpless as the man tongue fucked him and opened him up. When his hole was soft and puffy, the man pulled back, and Stiles noticed another cock poking up between his legs. He watched it twitch as the man licked up the length, before swallowing the head, the length disappearing into his mouth as he bobbed his head up and down. Stiles watched, fascinated, and panting at the show. It wasn't until he heard the man whose lap he was sitting in moaning and panting in his ear, to realize it was_ his _cock he was watching get sucked, not some second cock of his own. That was weird. Why would he think that?_

_The man popped the member out of his mouth and lined it up with Stiles' hole, Stiles tilting his head back on a shoulder as the thick length slid inside him, hips rocking under him and fucking his ass. Stiles moaned as he was fucked into, the man's hot mouth enveloping his cock, and making him pant through the double sensations. Just as he felt like he could cum, the thrusting stopped and the man pulled off his cock, lining up his length with Stiles' hole while the other man was still inside him. He whimpered as his hole was stretched open, pain starting to cloud his arousal-_

Stiles woke up, panting hard. The phantom pain in his ass slowly faded, but he could still feel his aching, throbbing arousal. Fuck, he'd been so close at one point, if they'd just continued sucking him... Sighing, he slid his hand down, wondering to himself if that counted as some kind of Omegaverse dream. He still felt like he was slick between his legs. His hand kept moving down, groping blindly for his length as his tired brain wondered how much further it was. Eventually he started to realize something was up, and he pulled back the covers, noticing the hard length wasn't lying on him, or sticking up. He patted around in sleepy, panicked confusion before realizing he wasn't going to find his dick just laying around elsewhere in the bed. Sitting up, he moved his hand across the flat mound, short, trimmed hairs rubbing against his palm. It was a wet and sticky mess, but he could feel soft lips under his hand. He cautiously parted them, squinting his sleepy eyes in the dark, and it looked like a small clitoris (well, probably a normally sized clitoris, but it seemed incredibly small to him).

He ran his finger across it and shuddered at the sensitivity, feeling it twitch and pull away. Lying back, he pulled his legs up and slid a finger down between the wet folds until he found a hole he didn't have when he went to bed. His finger went in fairly easily, and the sensation was kind of weird, but nice as he rubbed curiously against the inner walls. He had a pussy. His dick was gone, and he seriously had a pussy. What. The fuck.

Groaning, he rolled over onto his side. He still desperately needed to cum, but he just wanted to go back to sleep, or wake up, or whatever. He was too tired for this shit. He pulled his blanket up between his legs, spooning it, and tried to go back to sleep. It was a bit taut, and he found himself rocking his hips, a more tolerable sensation as his clit rubbed against the blanket indirectly, hidden behind his newfound folds. He huffed and sleepily rocked his hips back and forth, working himself up, but it was never enough, and trying directly with his hand again wasn't yielding any better results. Something told him he wouldn't be getting much sleep before school.

* * *

PRESENT

* * *

"So what are we doing today?" Stiles asked, looking around the clearing Peter had brought him to.

"I want to try making shield walls, using the same magic you've been doing, just in a different form."

" _You_ want to try making them?" Stiles asked, teasing.

Peter rolled his eyes. "That's the goal for us as a team."

" _Mhmm_."

Peter kicked around the leaves on the ground before finding a good sized rock to pick up. "I want you to try and make a barrier between those two trees," he said, pointing. Stiles looked where he was working and formed a barrier disk of the same invisible, energy based type he used for immobilizing. He gradually spread it until it reached the trees on either side, and covered a significant height. When he was done, he nodded to Peter, who then hurled the rock at it. Stiles flinched, and the rock slowed as it reached the barrier, turning in mid-air before falling on the other side of the barrier.

"Dude, I'm pretty sure you ripped a hole in my barrier," Stiles said, mentally patching it as he ran over, passing through the barrier without issue to pick up the rock.

"That's promising," Peter said sarcastically, sounding concerned.

"Well, it still stopped it short," Stiles huffed, handing the rock back.

"You ready?"

Stiles moved back, looking at the barrier and focussing on it. "Yeah." Peter threw the rock again, and just before it hit, Stiles put all his focus on making the impact area more solid. The portion of the barrier became a visible and solid, smooth rock surface, like a giant skipping stone. The rock hit it with a loud crack, bouncing back a bit before falling, along with several broken off pieces. The barrier stone surface was completely unmarred. Stiles sighed and dismissed it, the rock face dematerializing along with the rest of the barrier.

"That might work if we want an obstacle to hide behind, but it also hides the enemy from us, and won't be as reasonable if the person it's shielding is moving forward," Peter said, coming up next to Stiles and examining the broken, now smaller, rock.

"Well it's hard to make something secure and immaterial at the same time," Stiles said, sounding disappointed in himself. Peter reached over to rub his back comfortingly.

"I know, and you're doing well. I'm just pointing out why we need to keep working on it," Peter said. After several more attempts of struggling to get the right balance, Peter told him to take the barrier down.

"Do you want to try protecting a live target?"

"What? Peter, I'm barely protecting the grass past the trees half the time."

"Maybe some motivation will help." Peter picked up what was left of the rock and handed it to Stiles before stepping back, holding his arms out to indicate himself as a target. "Shield me and then try to hit me."

"I'm not going to throw rocks at you," Stiles said, turning the piece over in his hand. It was still warm from Peter handling it.

"It's barely big enough to hurt. Go ahead." Stiles sighed and stretched out a barrier in front of the Werewolf like rolling out dough. After an affirming nod from Peter, he pulled his hand back and let the rock fly. The barrier faltered as soon as his mind went from protecting to targeting, but Peter watched as it sailed past him, still missing by a wide margin, before landing and rolling on the ground. "I thought you played lacrosse...?"

"I _suck at_ lacrosse," Stiles corrected. "Thanks for reminding me."

Peter held up his hand. "Don't worry about it," he said, already pulling his phone out. "Hey, Chris, do you want to come shoot some arrows at me?" Stiles' eyes widened and he motioned frantically. "We're training and Stiles needs some motivation." Peter ignored the teen in favour of his conversation, smile and charming voice turned on. Stiles could hear some mumbles from the other end and Peter clutched his chest. "You wound me!" Stiles moved closer to listen in.

_"~ haven't ~~ shot you yet. ~~ being so dramatic."_

"I'll take that as a yes?"

_"Where are you?"_

"We're in the Preserve. I'll howl when you get here." Stiles couldn't make out Chris' reply as Peter hung up.

"So Chris knows now? Or are you going to tell him what kind of training we're doing?"

"Chris is the main reason I figured it out, and we discussed the possibility before you confirmed it."

"I thought Sparks were rare knowledge..."

"They are. Chris is one of the few people I know who knows about them. Our mutual research on the subject goes way back."

"So you trust him?" Stiles asked cautiously.

"With this? Yes."

Stiles bit his lip and looked around the Preserve. "How long do you think we have?"

"Probably about half an hour." After a moment's thought, Stiles went down on his knees and started opening Peter's pants. The Werewolf grinned. "You change your mind?"

"Just warn me if you hear anyone coming."

"What if it's me?" Peter asked.

Stiles rolled his eyes, gripping Peter's ass through his jeans as he started licking his cock to attention. "You can warn me then, too," he said, before swallowing him down.

* * *

 _"Hey, Chris, do you want to come shoot some arrows at me?"_ Chris generally didn't know what to expect whenever Peter's name showed up on his phone, but he honestly didn't know how to respond to that. It must have become obvious to Peter when he was met only with silence, so the Werewolf continued on. _"We're training and Stiles needs some motivation."_

Chris snorted. "Why would that motivate anyone?"

 _"You wound me!"_ Peter gasped in typical mock fashion, making Chris sigh and mentally roll his eyes. Peter had taken a drama class in highschool, and he'd had a flair for the dramatic ever since. Probably before, too.

"I haven't even shot you yet. Stop being so dramatic."

_"I'll take that as a yes?"_

Chris sighed and checked the time. "Where are you?"

_"We're in the Preserve. I'll howl when you get here."_

_Well there's an idea_ , Chris thought to himself. He didn't get a chance to put it into words before Peter had already hung up. Chris got dressed and picked out a crossbow and a collection of arrows, choosing a couple types of arrow points. He didn't want to dull a bunch of his broadheads just for training, and Peter would probably whine if he had to pull that thing out anyways, so he mostly went for the bullet points, which would be easier to remove.

"Hey, Dad- Are you going out?" Allison asked as she came into the study. "You're not going to hurt anyone, are you?"

Chris finished packing the arrows into a duffel bag. "Only consensually, which is what matters," he said thoughtlessly.

"Ew, I don't need to know about whatever hunter kink you have."

Chris' eyes widened and he looked up. "Not like that! Christ, Allison. I don't need to tell you not to use these for...whatever the hell you were thinking, do I?" He grimaced internally, not wanting to think about teenagers' propensity to see penetrative potential in anything remotely phallic. The broadheads would be a particularly bad idea...

"No!" Allison quickly assured, shocked. "I'm just, I'm going to Lydia's," she said, pointing toward the front door and awkwardly backing out of the office. Chris huffed and nodded, waving her off.

* * *

Stiles panted and moaned, pinned between Peter and a tree, the man's hand down the front of his underwear as he ground his knot against Stiles' ass.

"Fuck," Stiles gasped, fingers curling against the bark, caught between pressing against Peter's knot and his fingers. The Werewolf moved his hands, Stiles whining until they were placed over his ears, and the Alpha let out a howl behind him. _Fuck._ Huffing, Stiles turned around once Peter finished, doing up his pants and then looking at the man. Peter grinned as Stiles tried to fix his hair, the teen managing a bit more fussing to make them presentable, even though Peter said it just looked like they'd been training. They pulled apart to a safe distance just as Chris arrived with a large bag slung over his shoulder.

"So what are we doing?" Chris asked, looking between them.

"Stiles is practicing shield walls."

"Am I doing anything special?" Chris asked as he set his bag down at the edge of the clearing and pulled out the crossbow and a quiver of arrows.

"Not for now, but that would be interesting to see," Peter replied.

"What would?" Stiles asked, confused. Chris looked up at him, seeming to analyze the situation before making a _by your leave_ motion to Peter.

"You remember what I said about inactive Sparks having limited magical ability? Chris is one of those," Peter explained. Stiles eyes widened as he looked at Chris, although he didn't know why he was surprised.

"The myth that you need silver to kill a Werewolf is partially true, and not just in the, you need an _Argent_ , A.K.A., _a hunter_. Silver has special properties that can be activated to give it an extra-" Chris waved his hand, "-oomph," he shrugged.

"So it would be interesting to see how a magically active silver arrow would interact with a magic barrier. You ever shoot one at a mountain ash barrier?" Peter asked, turning to the hunter. "Or a silver bullet, for that matter?"

"I don't shoot caged animals." Peter's face twisted at the comment which was bittersweet, like a backhanded compliment. He knew Chris meant well, but the language he was raised with would take some time to relearn. Chris walked back into the clearing holding the loaded crossbow. "When you're ready." Stiles paled, remembering they were here for him. He stood to the side so he was looking between Peter and Chris, and drew up a shield.

"Okay," Stiles said. Chris raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's like a mountain ash barrier. Invisible, but you'll know when it's working," Peter assured, taking a deep breath as if to convince himself. Chris nodded and lifted the bow before shooting the arrow. At the last second, Peter's hand shot up and Stiles could see him holding the arrow, right in front of the Werewolf's shoulder which it had almost penetrated. "I'd like to not get shot by any arrows today, if we can avoid it, Stiles."

Stiles apologized and moved closer to Chris so he had a better angle to visualize. When he was ready, he nodded to the hunter, and another arrow let loose, this time hitting the wall with a soft _thunk_ before bouncing back slightly and falling to the ground. Stiles grinned, automatically turning to the nearest person, which happened to be Chris, and holding his hand out for a victory high-five. Chris had a small smile on, obviously impressed by Stiles' skills, even if he was trying to hide it.

"I haven't given Allison a high-five since she was maybe seven. I'm not going to give you one," Chris said when Stiles didn't put his hand down.

Stiles huffed and rolled his eyes. "Well, maybe instead of holding me to the younger standard, you should still be giving Allison high-fives."

"She's old enough that she assumed I have a hunter kink when I said I would only be shooting these at people consensually," Chris said, waving another arrow before loading the crossbow again.

"Well, you _did_ shove me against a wall the first time we met," Stiles smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. Chris looked unimpressed at the goofy, not-actually-intentional flirty thing Stiles was doing. Which, shit... Stiles froze, realizing that was probably a bad idea with someone who could get arrested for reciprocating. At least Peter agreed to what he was getting into, but Stiles was probably just putting Chris in an uncomfortable situation. Stiles looked over at Peter helplessly, but saw the Werewolf just looking at them with a curious, raised eyebrow.

"That said, it looks like you've made good progress. You've only been learning for what? A week?"

"Less. But Peter gives good rewards." Oh. My. God. Now was _not_ a good time for Stiles' filter to be M.I.A. He was just spoiled by the usual banter he had with Peter. Someone should shut him up.

Chris either didn't realize Stiles was referring to very _illegal_ 'rewards', or chose to deny it and continue on in supposed ignorance. They did a few more attempts, which were more or less successful. Then someone (it sure as hell wasn't Stiles) decided he should try protecting a moving target. So they set up across a larger distance, where Peter was going to run through the trees towards Chris while the hunter tried to shoot him.

"Okay, give me a bit to sort this out," Stiles said, trying to mentally plot out how to make this work. He grimaced internally as he remembered his first attempt at using this magic with a moving target, and ended up encasing Peter's hand in rock which he had to break open. So trying to surround Peter's body in skin-tight shielding probably wasn't a good idea. At least not yet. Stiles would just have to track the Werewolf's movement and manually move the shield ahead of him. He drew up the shield, and called for them to start.

Peter immediately sprinted forward, faster than Stiles had anticipated, and was knocked on his back when he hit the shield which hadn't moved yet. The Alpha laid on his back for a moment, looking up at the sky appreciatively before getting up for another round. Okay, so maybe Stiles had been a bit ambitious, thinking he could keep up with the Werewolf's running. He obviously had to go back to the drawing board. If he anchored the shield to Peter, then theoretically, it could maintain its relative position. Stiles imagined a pole going from Peter's chest to the shield. Although, he didn't know if that would cause problems, and the possibility of Peter accidently spearing himself through on it was alarming. So something less material. He supposed he could do something like magnets which repelled each other, still forcing the shield away as Peter moved, but not really having anything solid between them. He imagined something between a pole, which would keep the shield directed forward, and magnets to maintain the distance.

This time, when Peter started running, Stiles could see the way the shield rustled the leaves on the ground a few feet ahead of Peter, and Chris' arrows were consistently deflected. Stiles whooped as Peter slowed to a stop in front of Chris, the Werewolf grinning at getting through the exercise unharmed. Stiles ran over to them and Peter grabbed him up, swinging him around in a hug.

"You're enjoying this way too much," Stiles snorted when he was set down.

"He's like a dog. He likes the running out here, and the human side likes feeling invincible," Chris said. Peter's look seemed to affirm that, but the Alpha was unapologetic for enjoying himself.

"Shall we go again?" Peter asked eagerly.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "You know my magic's going to run low eventually, right?"

"Just let me know before it happens. And don't push yourself too far," Peter said, already running back to his starting point. Stiles agreed, and they did a few more runs, including an adapted version with a shield that surrounded Peter on all sides. Stiles had to add a few more anchor points to maintain the distance properly, but now that he had the concept down, it wasn't too complicated.

* * *

_LAST WEEK_

* * *

Once it was time to get ready for school, Stiles pretty much went through his normal morning routine. Peeing was weird, and messier than he realized. There was also a _lot_ of discharge to clean up. He felt like he used half the toilet paper roll.

With the aid of coffee, he got through the morning alright, if somewhat jittery. Scott seemed gratefully naive. It was weird not having Jackson's antagonistic presence around, but still, Stiles felt his anxiety building up around lunch, starting when he had to use the boys bathroom, and kept fretting about someone catching him. It didn't help that the stalls were gross, and Stiles usually avoided them as much as possible. While he seemed to get through it unscathed, it kept eating at him as afternoon classes started. This wasn't maintainable. He had to figure out what the hell happened, and how to fix it. He couldn't focus on anything else anyway, and ended up calling his dad so he could go home sick. Probably the last time he'd be able to do so before his dad realized Werewolves didn't get sick. He was grateful Scott still didn't know about the bite, because he knew he couldn't outright lie to the Werewolf if he called him out on skipping.

When he got home, his dad still at work for the day, Stiles immediately broke out his laptop and starting researching online for mythology involving sex changes. A lot of it could be found grouped together under LGBT interpretations. Some of it was sacred, some of it was intensely homophobic, depending on the culture. Stiles wondered, knowing what he did now of the existence of Supernaturals, how much of it was real, and if so, how much of it was misinterpreted by humans. If there were gods, or something akin, did they have the same variability of opinions and biases as humans? Maybe, to some deities it _was_ positive, and to others, not so much.

Stiles tried to push those thoughts away, and focus on the facts, but it was difficult when it was so ingrained in the _why_. The changes were usually made by gods, often as punishment, but changing a lover for reproductive compatibility was also common, which was... disturbing. More often, though, the gods would shapeshift themselves for that purpose, generally not having the same attachment to a single gender or sex, as humans did. There were also fox spirits, Kitsunes, which would take the form of a human woman, regardless of their gender.

Overall, it generally seemed to fall under punishment or some kind of lesson, or filling a perceived need, or godly whim. Stiles wasn't aware of anything he'd done to earn such a punishment. He hadn't raped anyone. _Maybe_ he'd upset or angered some deity related to giving the Nemeton power, but the punishment was usually fitting the crime, and a sex change seemed irrelevant in that case. He also wasn't aware of having gained the fancy of any deities. That left filling a need. A _breeding_ need. Unless it was something specific he didn't know about, Stiles could only think of their pack. Was it really that small? Maybe it wasn't an intentional change by some god. Maybe it was just automatic, and the pack would accommodate by making a breeder. Scott had been turned against his will, and Stiles wouldn't be surprised if the new Alpha was reluctant to turn anyone else and grow the pack that way. Did Peter count as an Alpha for their pack? Maybe it _had_ been intentional. Maybe Talia, seeing what had happened to her family oriented pack, had done something from the other side so they would breed new members.

Either way, while there were some Stiles wouldn't mind fucking, and Omegaverse fanfics held a certain appeal, Stiles didn't actually want to _be_ pregnant. The fact that the original Hale pack had been torn apart in the way it had was only one piece of evidence among many of how fucked up this world was. Why would he subject a new person to that, who's consent he had no ability to acquire before inflicting the decision on them. Even if he wanted to be optimistic, and there was only a risk, it wasn't his existence to gamble with.

For now, it was probably best to keep it to himself, lest anyone try to force him into that position.

* * *

PRESENT

* * *

"Well, I get why you kept it to yourself," Peter said, after hearing the research and conclusions Stiles had had.

"Yeah. It doesn't bother me so much, now that I know it wasn't forced on me with insidious intents. Just a subconscious sex desire." Stiles was at Peter's place again, this time catching up on some of the homework he'd been neglecting while he recovered from yesterday's magic training.

"Well, now that you know it's within your own control to switch back, do you still want to? We could move onto that next."

Stiles shrugged. "The breeding's what I was most worried about, and since I have a prostate, I'm not worried about having the _internal_ female parts to do that. In the mean time, having a...vagina's not so bad; it has its benefits," Stiles said, smirking to himself a bit. "And I'm kind of glad I didn't realize I could change it myself, then, or I might have tried, and failing could be..." Stiles sucked his breath in at the terrifying thought, "pretty bad. I should probably learn more about anatomy before I try it, and even then, using that knowledge to learn to heal safely seems more prevalent." It took a while for Peter to respond, and Stiles looked over to see him thinking intensely. "What?"

"I don't think that's the right word," he said, tapping away at his laptop. A minute later, he seemed to have found what he was looking for. " _Imperative_?"

Stiles pointed at him and nodded. "Yeah, that," he agreed before going back to his work.

"So does that mean you want to study anatomy, so you can try healing when it comes up?"

Stiles looked at his work. "I think I can finish this in about half an hour, and then yeah, we can look at that. I have a biology textbook in my bag that probably has something helpful we haven't gotten to."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I know I said I'd be posting my Stetopher Week stories last week, sorry that didn't happen. I have I think 5 or 6, and got sucked into a prequel for one. So, they're still in the works, and will be posted late (since Stetopher week is over now), whenever I can get to them, probably interspersed with working on this. I'm not doing NaNoWriMo, but I did decide I want to try getting as much writing done as I can, and really try to focus on that. So I got about 2000 words written today to finish off this chapter for you all :)

**Author's Note:**

> There are some potential triggers for the conclusion, but they're very spoilery, so I'm still deciding how/when/where I want to include that. They will at the very least be made available in the end notes or something when they come up. One of the current tags alludes to it.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Sparked - Deleted Scenes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12736728) by [MasterKane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasterKane/pseuds/MasterKane)




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